Releasing her inner monologue

Hurricanes

2011-08-26T22:10:00.003-04:00

When I dreamt about being a parent, each dream consisted of giving my children more than I was given growing up. It wasn't about me criticizing my parents or some type of self imposed pity session for myself but a stark realization of the needs that I had that couldn't be met. Physically those needs were always met, I had a roof over my head and a Mother who adored me. Two sisters to watch out for me and a Grandmother who would lay her own needs aside to assist us. But it didn't take a genius to realize that our home was not perfect Norman Rockwell painting.

I knew from a very early age that my parents were different from my classmates parents. If you could have put the right words in a 6 year old mouth it would be easily said that my parents didn't really like each other very much. I have one memory that stands alone in my files of childhood mental snapshots of my parents showing affection. So, it was no surprise when my Mom, while driving to school one morning announced that they were divorcing. I remember not feeling devastated or confused. I felt relieved. At age 6 I felt relieved that my parents were divorcing.

I didn't want my own children to ever feel that way about Me or the home I would build for them. I wanted to build a marriage so strong that not even a little hurricane could make it fall. I want them to always have security and be able to, later in their life, look back at their childhood and say the one constant were their parents strong relationship.

My in-laws are going on 39 years of marriage. I watch them closely and write mental notes on the beauty of this marriage. It is easy to see that the love they have for each other is still as strong, if not stronger, as it was that day in November all those years ago when they said "I do". One morning while they were visiting I overheard a conversation that took place between the two of them. So simple, yet still so poignant. As his beautiful bride of 39 years was cooking breakfast for the family, he gently came behind her and quietly whispered in her ear "You look ravishing today" to which she giggled and kissed him gently on his cheek and went back to cooking. I tear up as I recall that morning. The love they have for each other is so simple yet so concrete. Sure, they stumbled along the way while raising their little family. They accidentally left nicks on their kids as they strive to raise them the best they could. But the one thing, the one important thing they did right for their kids? Fell in love with each other anew each and every day.

I thank my in-laws for their marriage because it blessed me with their son. He is his father in every way. Quiet. Gentle. Highly intelligent. A man of integrity and fully devoted to his family. We've lived through worse hurricanes than the one blowing through New York this weekend. Our 9 year marriage has already had to grieve 2 miscarriages, one near death experience, uncertainty, extended family battles. Each time though, we asses the damage left. We pick up the pieces, rebuild and move on. We've learned through these times how to make the rebuilding happen sooner. Each time we become more in sync than the last. This last hurricane? Heh, it had nothing on us. We got through it together and if it thought it was going to ruin me? I had it fooled because now? Well, it proved to Derek and I just how strong we really are. Part of my cocooning did include the security I felt in the presence of my husband. He held me up and kept me strong so much so that I felt an ease by his side.

Our marriage alone is more than I had and I know, in the end, it's the most important thing my kids will ever need to help them get through their own hurricanes.

Cocoons

2011-08-15T21:03:00.011-04:00

It's not a secret to anyone close to me how awful these past winter months were. I think Derek & I were in such a survival mode. Licking the wounds of our pain while keeping on a brave face for the girls. Ahhh, these girls though, you just can't fool them, they knew. They felt our pain, regardless of how hard we tried to hide it. They knew we were hurting so in their own way, they clung closer and we just held on. At times, I don't know who was holding onto who, them to us, or was it really us to them? Rosemary began nursing more, at age 3, it was just what she needed to feel secure. Camille clung to a strict bedtime routine of reassurance of this chaos with sweet songs being sung in her ear while she drifted to sleep.

It wouldn't be until mid-June, during a night of yet another crisis to sort, that my dear child, groggy for sleep, with one question would let me know exactly HOW she was dealing:

"When will things go back to normal" she would ask and sadly, at that moment, I didn't have an answer but I new I better come up with a plan.

What was normal to my precious 5 year old? Mama making pancakes in the morning, and singing songs at night.

Nothing changes if nothing changes, so I had to make a change.

We have done nothing this summer. We made no commitments. Dabbled in absolutely no family drama. Just focused on each other, cocooned ourselves within our little family. The weeds grew in the front yard, but we didn't care because we have been to busy playing vicious jelly fish in the pool until dinner each night. No camps, no dance class just lazy mornings with coffee, PBS and wedding girls riding on their make believe horses until lunchtime. It's been bliss. It prepared me for the harsh slap of August. The month that was supposed to expand our family. I know if I let myself blink the hustle and bustle of September will creep upon us.

But I know this rest time has to end. I must face the world again, face people and relationships and commitments. I don't want to leave this place though, our time-out.

This week is VBS and I dreaded the facing of people. I even considered canceling, just not showing up. There hadn't been much talk about VBS starting so maybe Camille wouldn't notice if we skipped it this year. As tempting as canceling would be, come Monday morning, I dragged myself out of bed, welcomed by the rain on the first day and the sun the days that followed. Put actual thought into clothes, making up of myself and out I went. Day one was hard, I won't lie. The seeing of people, the talking, conversing. I must admit that I didn't come across as the flashy smile I normally do. But I got through it, and you know what? My kids did to. But better than me.

And how Camille showed me back in June it was time for some hiding? They both show me in August, the month that I really want to hide, that it's time to spread our wings again.

Amazing how much our kids can also be our teachers.

Painlessly

2011-08-15T20:15:00.004-04:00

Rainy Mondays are my favorite.

Rainy Mornings, sipping coffee, listening to the pitter patter of it on my windows, it calls for me to have a relaxed day.

Rainy Afternoons, after we've finished the days activities, it calls for a cup of coffee next to my favorite window with my favorite cat.

Rainy evenings, to sit with the window open, sun down next to my favorite little people and favorite big person.

Stretching, growing, learning.

I thought I was done with all of that. It surely can't keep going into adulthood but I know that who I was 5 years ago isn't the same person I am today. And that journey of constant maturing hasn't come without it's pains. Stretching yourself is never quite the most comfortable experience. I keep maturing though, mid 30's and it feels strange to say that but it is strange how it happens.

Regardless, here I am. Pride aside admitting that I'm still growing & learning.

This month is hard. No physical limits of stretching & pain. How badly I want that right now, to rub my full belly with the anticipation of new life. It feels everywhere I look, others are where I should be. My stretching & pain comes from within, empty uterus instead. But, before I give into the self pity (see, I said maturing) I remember I do have a full heart. And rather than let this sad reminder of what isn't, I will focus on what it is. The two little lives sitting right beside me and that amazing man who had a part in creating them.

These past few months could have been enough to put me in, to have that padded cell freely handed to me. But I stretched & I grew & I chose to shift my focus that this loss wasn't just about me. It wasn't just my loss of my dream but best friends loss also. He too had a dream & he too was in pain. Instead of focusing on my pain, we joined forces & shared it & leaned into each other. Our good days & bad days, hey, isn't that what two becoming one is all about? We are still doing that & we are learning that we really are strong. Our relationship, that so many has cast a doubtful eye on these past 9 years of marriage is more than they ever imagined it was. We joined forces for each other, for our girls.

But today it hurts & it's not painless but I know I've grown. I've matured. It's where I need to be, not necessarily where I want to be but I am where I should be.

Is this me coming back? Rising from the ashes? Possibly. Maybe it'll take another year for another epiphany to hit. But still, this maturing, it isn't about you, or this writing. It's about me. Nothing changes if nothing changes they say. So, I'm changing.

Painlessly I hope.

R.I.P.

2010-06-10T17:03:00.003-04:00

June 10, 2008, around 7:30 p.m.

My sister called during the girls bath and told me to call her back. She knows not to call during that time so I refused to call back. She was going to tell me what was going on, now.

"Pam's dead"

And then the words that followed next:

"She killed herself"

My step mother committed suicide on June 7, 2008, my Dad discovered this on June 10, 2008.

Be careful, don't talk about. And when you do, just say "She passed away". It's easier because that word makes me squirm and no one knows how to handle it. You need people to allow you to talk about and they need YOU to not look like you'd rather be getting a un-medicated root canal. People get that look, like a fly stuck in sticky paper trying desperately to tear their wing off and escape than have to listen to you.

Death is a hard thing to deal with, suicide is a horrible thing to deal with.

Passive Aggressive

2010-04-26T09:00:00.005-04:00

It's 9 a.m. on Monday morning and I'm sitting here, in my room, noise maker on, coffee on the nightstand, cat at my side. The girls are in the basement playing with their Beepa and Mimi is in the kitchen making everyone a big breakfast. Derek has left for a trip to Pittsburgh, a rarity here as his job doesn't typically take him away from us. For the next four days my life will be less hectic. I won't plan any meals, I'll shower in peace and quiet and get where I need to be on time. There might be a thrift store run, a stop at a coffee shop where I'll sit by myself, stress free, not worrying about the time because I know the girls will be taken care of. For these few days I'll know how it feels to have a nanny, cook, driver and maid. It's what my mother-in-law enjoys doing. She likes running the show and I love that she does it for me.

I'm the rare breed out there that can say I truly love my in-laws which I almost didn't happen thanks to me, but that's another post for another time. For now, I can say I find them a breathe of fresh air compared to the stifling that my family at times creates for me. Derek's family is the passiveness to my families aggressiveness. But I love my family, I love each every member and all the unique things that bring to my life. My family is hard. They take a lot of energy sometimes and force me to lower my expectations so I don't find myself constantly disappointed. Well, not sometimes, a majority of the time.

One of the numerous reasons I stopped blogging was my family. Things have been bad, very bad, for the last 3 years. As my father has pointed out, you need a scoreboard just to remember which family member is talking to you. It's hard to keep track with who's an enemy and who's an Allie and who's pretending to be both. My sister, Dad and I had a fall out a few years back and it practically consumed me. It was a fall out that left a 2 year shock wave of emotions that, regardless of how hard we tried, wouldn't allow us to get our balance back. The family has been so splintered, or was so splintered, that I oozed negativity. I had learned from a previous situation that I would cause more damage to future mending by venting in such an open forum. I wanted healing, I wanted reconciliation so knew I couldn't write because there were no words that would allow it. All I had to bring was hurt and anger and knives stuck backs so deep if removed they'd immediately be used for revenge. I wanted that then, but knew that it wasn't healthy for what I have now. So I stopped writing. I learned that ever important lesson of shutting up.

It's taken years to mend that riff. But still, I know it was God's plan. I know that the harvest sometimes is painful but the beauty that comes from clearing out the weeds is well worth it. We are better now. We are in a good place and God has brought about new circumstances that one could never had imagined but I know His hand is ever present.

"He gives and takes away......."

I've had friendships end that God deemed necessary, I've had friendships strengthened and begin anew to ease the blow. I've had people turn on me while others have lifted me up. I have so much to write now and I feel like that dam has been broken.

This site will change, but not now right now. Right now I just need to write.

Live, Learn, Change

2010-04-19T23:45:00.002-04:00

"And you learn to accept defeat, with your eyes open and head held high.
With the grace of a woman not the grief of a child"

I remember reading this when I was 16 and such a young and tender age it spoke volumes to me. As I've grown, it has stuck with me and brought a lot of meaning throughout my life. The circumstance might have changed from year to year, but the meaning of it has always stayed the same.

When I started this site my life's direction was pretty self-centered, as it should have been for that time period. I was newly married, newly moved and learning how to be a wife and love my husband. It was all about me, my husband and the life we were forming together. My Johnsy and me, his princess. The title of this blog made a lot of sense.

But then the Camille was born and life was not all about me. Nor was it all about Derek. It was now about us being parents and the princess is this picture changed as did this blog.

I've grown so much since those early days of being a Mom. At times the growth was painful, and through this blog, I would vent about those moments which came at a high price. I hurt people, important people who I loved. Through God's grace, those relationships have been restored. I will never do anything to put them into jeopardy again.

"...with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child"

I've a lot throughout the years, but the most important thing I've learned is the art of shutting up. The art of knowing when to show grace and just say nothing, to walk away from situations in order to not bring more damage and allow for future restoration, which is at times not close to God's purpose, so in that it's learning to let go and move on. This has been an important lesson especially when it come to one of the most important relationships of all: Family. These years have been filled with strife and uncertainty but the one thing that has been constant is my determination to learn when to shut up and not give into that childlike grief.

In the end, as I have change, moved on, this site also needs to change. It is no longer about me and my Johnsy. It's about this peace I feel in this place in my life. The grace I've accepted and the grief of things not going my way that I've rejected. I've learned that people aren't necessarily who you thought they would be, no matter how much you love them or try to support them. Those people will most likely be the exact ones to reject you. It's not about them rejecting you in the end, but it is about you loving them during the process.

This blogs address will change. You will no longer be able to find this blog under the address you have used right now. I'm not going to post the new address but welcome you who would like to follow me in the journey to leave a comment and/or email me I'll forward you the new address.

Hope to see you continue this journey with me.

So she writes

2009-06-22T15:39:00.003-04:00

I miss the days when it was so easy to remove someone from your life. Move to California, change your phone number, become non-existent to certain others. But now? You can do all these things. You can change who you are, you can change zip codes but now? Now it's like they're knocking on your door asking to come in. This damn Internet, these damn sites that promise connections with long lost friends but where's the disclaimer about long lost individuals you'd prefer to never find again. The ones you donated to some thrift store and now it's landed right back in your hands?

A name. Two simple names appear on a screen but it might as well had slapped you in the face. Days, months, years pretending like these people never existent. Like you and their past never crossed paths now here they are sitting with you in your living room while you sip your cup of tea. They here and quite uninvited like those damn carpenter ants you worked so hard rid your house of.

Go away you want to say. Go back to where I safely put you. I've moved on. I've grown beyond those years, you have no business here. But I can't do these things. All this girl can do is write, so she writes. And she sips her tea and listens to children play, her cat snore and looks forward to seeing her loving husband walk through that door. That loving husband who lives his life as if you have nothing to hide from.

For Consideration

2009-02-23T14:33:00.003-05:00

I don't know how to start this thing back up but several of you have sent very sweet request for it to resume and I have taken your pleads into consideration.

It's not that I don't want to write anymore or didn't want to. I never lost the desire although I could very easily blame time as the main culprit. No, it is none of these reasons really. I stopped because I had to. I stopped because the things that were going on in my life needed to be kept private. The one thing I have learned in my almost 5 years of blogging is when to shut the hell up. What topics are privy for the reading public to know and what topics need to be swept under the rug. In the interest of healing relationships, I knew the healthiest thing to do was to close shop otherwise I would just write fluff, words with no meanings because the thoughts and concerns swirling around in my head needed to be kept between me and those people not me and all you lovely people. It was just time to stop.

I lay awake some nights, even in the past 8 months or so, with half written post swirling in my head, wishing I could muster up the energy to get out of bed and put them in writing but my long busy days win out and I fall asleep with all those well constructed sentence vanished in thin air by the time I wake up. I go about my day without a inkling of a thought about writing but yet return to the same spot each night, same thoughts, same post.

So, I don't know if this is me coming back or me granting all of you an explanation for my silence but I promise I'll think about.

Precious Few

2008-09-09T21:43:00.003-04:00

There are moments I'm elated and feel I'm walking on cloud nine without a worry on my mind. I'm free and stress less and happy. All the pieces fit and I'm fitting with them. These moments, I relish them because I know how fleeting they are.

With no warning, no just an abrupt halt it all ends and at times I feel I'm slapped with the reality of some strange loneliness that haunts me. Like I'm in a crowded room but yet I feel I am standing alone. I crave a time when I felt gotten by people rather than the blank stares or awkward silence on the end of a phone line.

I've changed, I know and I'm happy with me and a point in my life where words like peaceful and tranquil could very easily describe how I feel about me but yet no one around me quite knows what to make of it. So at times I feel lonely.

I also feel relieved for finally feeling comfortable in this skin, even if very few really get me anymore.

But, those very few, and you know who you are, that do get me I cherish you. You are like precious treasures that I will guard and handle delicately because of you, my beautiful gems, I don't know where I would be right now, going through what I have these past few months without you.

So once again, I'm thankful.

Faithful

2008-08-14T01:13:00.004-04:00

It's 1 a.m. and I sit here unable to sleep thanks to my newly clingier 6 month old who decided at 11:30 p.m. that she wanted me. It's now almost 2 hours later and she hasn't given in to sleep. Instead she goes from sitting up in her crib, gripping the rails waiting for me, to licking her lovies in her crib while she considers going to sleep.

Sleep. It's the one thing I can't do when my girls are awake in the middle of the night. I somehow get a sharp ear and even when I try to fall back to sleep I hear their every move. It's just not worth laying there. By the time they fall back to sleep I'm so uncomfortable from tossing and turning that now I can't go back to sleep. Instead I get up, sit in the kitchen with my laptop and the glow from the monitor watching Rosemary. I won't go in as I want her to learn to put herself back to sleep, but I will watch to make sure she's okay. It's the compromise I'm willing to give on some nights.

But being awake at now 1:15 a.m. comes with it's downfalls as I sit here making list after list in my head of all the things I need to do to feel caught back up. Ever since Pam's death I've been quickly slipping away from my comfort zone of organization. No matter how much I've tried I haven't seemed successful in doing the things necessary to make me feel like this place is in tip top shape, the way I like it. I'm just getting by each week with the bigger things while those little things just pile up. Those little things are becoming bigger things and all I want to do is pause time, make everything stop expect for me so I can get them done. Actually, I would much prefer to rewind time to that day in June when we lost Pam and have a redo of that day then she'd still be here and we all would be better, this would just be some horrible dream that we'd wake up from.

D and I were going to find a new church this summer. We want Camille in church, regardless of our view on the church, we want the girls to be raised in it, how hypocritical is that? We haven't gone to church since the Sunday before our trip to visit my Dad in early May. Every other weekend we've traveled since then and neither of us have been able to muster up the energy to go. I don't like new people and new churches. They make you talk and introduce yourself and seriously, why bother with all that chit chat if I'm not going to be coming back.

There's that song that says "He gives and takes away....my heart will choose to stay". These past two August have been challenging for me. God has really been doing some work in my life, I don't like it, but apparently He thinks I need it, I disagree. My sister says our family has a black cloud over it and that God has it out for us. I can't view it that way. Instead I just have to believe He's doing a great work in our life and if we hang on tight enough, we'll be able to see the fruits of it. I have to believe because if I don't I think I'd become a bitter and angry person and turn from God. I don't want to do that. If there is one thing that has always held true for me, no matter where I was in life, right or wrong, my faith in God has always been strong. I didn't say my faith in the church or my faith in people, but my faith in God only and that is what always carries me through.

Right now I am feeling mentally drained. Of course I feel like a big cry baby when I say that because if I'm feeling this way, I don't even want to imagine how my father is feeling. Sometimes I feel like I have no right to complain about my pain with Pam being gone and all that it brought me when he's sitting there alone without his best friend.

This is a strange journey I am on but I'm hopeful, like I've always been when tragedy and strife hit, I'm hopeful and I hold on tighter to my faith because it's always the one thing I can trust I will have left when it's all said and done.

Random Tuesday

2008-08-04T08:49:00.002-04:00

If anyone would ask me what it was that made me fall in with D, I would immediately tell them it was his mind and the sound of his voice when he spoke; the words that came out of his mouth have always been like a symphony to me. I do love the sound of his voice and sometimes that competes with the love I have for the way his mind works.

We met when were just teenagers; I was 17, he was 16 and he wasn't like any other boy that I had ever met before then. He had actual thoughts that provoked 3 am discussions that would only be ended by the a looming alarm that was about to go off in just 5 short hours. I never found any other boy in high school as attractive as I found D. They couldn't think or utter a thought that would compare to D. We clicked the moment we met and you would find us driving around many Friday nights just listening to music and talking after abandoning the friends we were supposed to be spending time with. We found them quite annoying and obnoxious, we found comfort and compatibility in each other. Throughout college we dated others and would complain how neither of our choices compared to the intellectual stimulation we received from each other. Granted, we don't have similar interest all the time, but we find each others distinct likes something to admire. So it was not a shock, those early days in October 2000 that finally vocalized what we were afraid to admit out of fear of a fracture friendship our love for each other. I can't imagine my life without him and I know, with out a shadow of a doubt, that if anything ever happened to him, I would not be complete again. There is just not any other man that would be my perfect equal as D is.

For these reason, for all these things, I ache and pain for my father. Pam was his perfect equal. My Mom, as amazing loving and kind as she is, was not his equal and he not hers. But Pam, she understood him and accepted his quirks because she too had amazingly strange quirks also. I understand his pain and hurts because, putting myself in his shoes, I know how it feels to just not click with any other human being as you do your spouse. You realize what a rare commodity it is to, being off the bell shaped curve, to find someone who's hanging out there right with you.

My Dad is lost, he just doesn't know which way to turn and I can't do a damn thing to make that better for him. I can't fix it. I can't be to him what Pam was. My friendship does absolutely nothing for him because I can't be there at 5:18 pm on a random Tuesday when he has a question about a plant and turns and she's not there to answer. I can't be there at 5:18 pm on a that random Tuesday to hug him when he realizes shes just not there anymore. I can't do anything for him and that hurts because I to am a strange bird who has found her perfect match and know how absolutely lost I would be without my D.

He needs her back. He needs her to just come back and she isn't coming back. She's gone and she left him alone and I can't ease his pain.

Charming

2008-07-13T08:19:00.003-04:00

When I was pregnant with Rosemary, D and I were pretty adamant that she was going to be our last. Days leading up to her delivery my Dad would joke with that I wouldn't let my sisters beat me and I'd have that third child. I scoffed at him and told him unless someone else was going to be carrying that child, Rosemary would be my last pregnancy.

Then I went into labor. And it was easy. Well, easy compared to a 36 hour event followed by blood transfusions, antibiotics for double pneumonia, Post Partum Depression and let's not forget pumping for 6 straight months until my milk dried up. So, yeah, easy. Like, 14 hours of labor easy with only 2 of those hours being painful, easy. No blood transfusion, no illness, no depression and a baby that latched right on from the moment she was born and has nursed perfectly every since (can I also mentioned that I've never had an bleeding or soreness with nursing her?).

Days, weeks, and months following her birth I've found myself holding her tighter and longer hoping she doesn't grow up to fast. I've been trying to just absorb every single moment her babyness. With Camille, it was a different mix of emotions. Once I got through the Depression and began enjoying motherhood, I looked forward to what each new month would bring us. I wanted her to grow up quickly because I was so excited to see what was around each new bend. I still feel that way about Camille. Each milestone is so exciting to watch, especially since I'm solely responsible for these new things she is learning. I don't feel sad when she turns another year because I know with it will be new adventures for us. With Rosemary, I want to hold her back as much as I can.

While driving down to my sister's for the holiday weekend, D and I were talking about our future and where we wanted to be in five years (we have these discussions at least once a month). D, being more adamant than I about the size of our family, shocked me when he revelaed his desire to possibly want another child. Before, my teeter tottering always landed on just two because I knew he wasn't going to change his mind. It allowed me to keep that door closed and not even consider the possibility. Now, with his unsureness, that door now has a few cracks in it.

I go back and forth. A third means so many changes and brings so much uncertainty. I'm one of three kids and know the unique make up that brings. At times, being the youngest, I've felt like the odd man out and the the two older ones sometimes pit themselves against me. But on the flip side of that, I always had two older ones who pit themselves against anyone who was against me! I think of Rosemary and how another child would affect her and her standing in this family. That darn middle child syndrome haunts me and I begin to wonder how much validity there is to it.

I look at my two girls and I become so thankful for healthy children, two healthy pregnancies, why temp fate? We've lucked out twice, but is three times really a charm?

Tearless

2008-06-29T22:34:00.005-04:00

Grief.

It's a strange thing.

There is that list of emotions that you are supposed to feel when someone dies, there is a order to it, you check it off your list giving you an indication when you will begin to feel better I guess.

My grief isn't typical, I don't follow this list to the dot. The circumstances surrounding this isn't typical so why should my emotions be any different.

I still haven't cried.

I'm sure I could cry if I sat down and really let myself but I just can't seem to allow it to come. It almost happened last Wednesday while I was exercising. I was jogging with the girls listening to my Zune, Fort Minor's, Where'd you go to be specific, and for some reason I felt the emotions bubbling up hitting my tears ducts as they tried to force their way out. I know the song is not about someone dying, but I'm certain at this point in time it could have the even had the Flight of the Concords playing and it would have struck that nerve seeing how raw they are right now. I didn't allow the tears to escape though. I just pushed them back down, shook my head in disbelief (something we all have been doing since that dreadful Tuesday 3 weeks ago) and hit the pavement even harder, a little faster.

My Dad got remarried so long ago that I was surprised when I found it had been over 20 years since his wife was brought into my life. She never was a step mother to me, she was my friend. She just respected my quirks better than most, maybe because she also had quirks that made many people puzzled, that could be a good possibility I suppose. I never had one bad memory of her, never an episode where I felt threatened by her presence in my Dad's life. She gave us our space as we grew and never forced her way in. At our monthly visits she didn't fight for that valuable time we had to spend with our Dad, she gave that to us freely. I don't think it was until my college years when I truly understood how useful she was in my life. She gave me invaluable advice and an even more a valuable ear.

Yes, a friend indeed that will be missed so deeply.

I don't know why she is gone. I will probably never understand. But for the time being I've not only found myself speechless, but even more so, tearless in disbelief.

These Moments

2008-06-09T22:56:00.006-04:00

"Even when you act naughty, I still love you"

It's what I say numerous times a day, after time-outs, after a temper tantrum. It's a reminder that whatever she does, good or bad, she is still loved and cherished. There are times I'll start that sentence to her and end with "I still what Camille" and as if she has been trained, she immediately repeats "You still love me". You wonder what they're absorbing. You wonder if it's just something they repeat back but is meaningless to them.

Today was just one of those days, or afternoons I guess I should say. The day itself, though busy and hectic went relatively well. Camille went along with game plan for our Monday: 4 month check for Rosemary, some grocery shopping and then some play in the pool. But as if she had pent up all her misbehaviour, it all spilled over with a simple 5 minute warning for lunch. She just couldn't take it and continued what seemed like a blood curdling scream from outside, to me swiftly lifting her up out of the pool and to her room. She finally did calm down, and with much much persuasion, she took a nap. She woke up in good spirits. No screaming from her room, no frustration at a toy, just quiet play until quiet time was over with. Quiet indeed, because when I opened her door to release her, I saw what had kept her occupied for that extra half hour. Both drawers of clothes, that once had been neatly folded, now lay scattered all over the floor.

"I can play them with though, Mama"

Yes, she can. She can try on a few outfits, mix match a few shirts and skirts, but not completely empty out both drawers, that's not the deal we made.

"Go make Rosemary laugh Camille, Mama needs a moment"

She went, and came back.

"She laughed Mama"

Still puffing and stewing as I fold and fold and fold.

"Go make her laugh again Camille. Mama is very frustrated with you right now. You fought to take a nap and screamed at me. That was not nice. You then tore apart both drawers, that's not how we treat our things. Mama is very frustrated right now, please go make Rosemary laugh again"

Walking over mounds of Capri's and skirt's, with her arms wide open she comes closer to me, almost tripping, she wraps those little arms around me, lays her sweet soft head on my shoulders and whispers:

"But you still love me Mama"

She absorbs, she hears me, it's not meaningless.

"That's right my precious one, Mama still loves you"

Reignite This

2008-06-05T14:16:00.003-04:00

It's no secret that the state of this site is quite shaky right now. I barely update anymore which sadly means I don't have any type of journal of Rosemary's first year as I did for Camille. I just don't have the motivation like I used to which is sad to me. I want that motivation back.

The last post which strangely got deleted before anyone could see it was submitted to the new Roots and Sprout site. If you haven't visited over there yet, I suggest you pop over and read through all the amazing posts. And while you're at it, keep reading through July and look for me there!

Until then, hopefully that zest for writing will be reignited in me once again.

Spring board

2008-05-20T08:36:00.006-04:00

This post has been removed.

Sorry if you missed it!!

An Observation

2008-04-25T14:30:00.003-04:00

You know how you have some people in your life that have personality traits that drive you absolutely crazy but you have to deal with because you can't change them? Like say your parent being passive aggressive or a friend who bottles things up then explodes without warning. Typically we just accept these little flaws in the people we love and try our best to carry on a relationship. Rarely do we sit the person down and give them consequences for these innate traits that we dislike.

So, if this much true, why do we expect different from our children? Why, if we allow our husbands to have traits we don't admire, do we not allow our children to have less desirable traits and feel the need to change who they are?

I have found myself doing this to my toddler, trying to change in her traits that maybe she just doesn't have control over. Could it possibly be that this is who she is and just as I don't scold my Mom for being a tad bit neurotic, why do I spend so much time scolding my daughter for getting mad when she's frustrated? Honestly? I think I'd get pretty pissed if people were constantly sticking my butt in time out for being sensitive (well, actually, if time-out meant being left alone for the same amount of time as my age maybe I'd be singing a different song, ya' know?!).

Now, I'm not saying that I'm going to stop teaching her how tame this anger, but I am thinking as parents we need to take their little innate personalities into account before we choose to discipline.

Let's take this morning for instance. Camille's in her room and I hear her yelling at the top of her lungs which slowly began to make my blood boil. What I wanted to do was swing open that door and ask her what on earth was going on and warn her that if she didn't stop it she was going to wind up in a time-out, forever. Lucky for her, I didn't feel like getting up off the couch where I was sitting sipping coffee and watching the birds, as frustrating and non relaxing as it was to hear. When I finally did go and release her for the day she informed me that something got stuck and so screamed but she was also proud to say that she was able to remove the said object and all was well. I have been thinking about this little episode today and think that as parents, we sometimes need to step back and let them be who they are instead of trying so hard to shape our kids into who we are.

I don't know, it'll probably backfire on me next week, but for now, I'm thinking that I sometimes just need to leave her alone and let her be who she needs to be as I let my Mom be who she needs to be.

Outcast

2008-03-31T07:22:00.006-04:00

Apparently I must put a disclaimer on this post, actually, I'm putting at the beginning and end:

If you are a family member and are reading this site, obviously I'm not referring to you!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last night, D and I were having a conversation with a good friend about family. He had been talking about how his family consist more of friends that feel like family rather than "real" family members. They get together every Sunday for lunch and periodically during the week. We had the opportunity to participate with this tradition this past Thanksgiving. As we sat and talked, I began to beg our friend to please adopt us. How nice would that feel to be a part of a family that consist of no drama?

Drama is the structure of my family and I type this knowing that my family reads this and I know that if they sat back and really thought about it, they would know how right I am.

In my family, it always seems that there is one person on the hot seat catching crap. Right now it's my turn in the rotation and has been since April, the main reason why my postings became quite sparse. For the most part, a majority of things that I do will be misconstrued as being either overly sensitive or not sensitive at all. I'm the one who has been labeled the "feeling person" and therefore I am not always taken seriously. Sadly though, for what was a inside conflict, spread outside the family turning extended members noses up at me. I guess you can say that it is my turn to be the outcast right now.

Although I am the outcast and on the hot seat at this moment, I don't mind. I used to mind when people were up in arms with me. I used to mind that I couldn't please everyone all the time. I still love my family and all it's members but the one thing I've learned since April, is when I am busy keeping everyone happy, I'm the only one who is never happy. I've had to learn for once to put my feelings and needs first despite how everyone else is going to react. But it's just not me, D has followed in my footsteps too causing passive aggressive waves in his family.

So, my main point here. The one thing that has been eating at me? Since D and I have begun to put ourselves first, the disapproval spread throughout the families to a point that no extended family, I mean NONE of them, chose to acknowledge the birth of Rosemary in punishment for our bad deeds. Not a card, a gift, an email, nothing. As much as I can stomach people having a bone to pick with me, what I can't handle is when they choose to use my children in retaliation. That is what I won't tolerate. I know that venting my frustrations won't change anything, it sure as hell makes me feel better.

My message to all those family members who will never read this because they don't even know this website exist*?

Get over yourselves. You're not as important as you think you are and I frankly, I could give a damn.

The End.

I feel better, go back to enjoying your Monday.

*meaning, if you are family and you're reading this, obviously I'm not talking about you...duh!

Mathematician

2008-03-12T18:25:00.003-04:00

What do you get when you mix a defiant toddler, a needy newborn and a tired Mama with congestion and sore throats?

Yep, that pretty much sums it up.

Third Arm

2008-03-04T16:31:00.005-05:00

This is a rarity. It's 4:30 and I have no children attached to my hip or any other body part.

Camille took a 2 1/2 hour nap only after I had to abruptly ended my conversation with my Dad to deal with a very angry toddler. I was not her favorite person seeing how I bribed her just an hour earlier with new socks from Gymboree if she would leave the play area at the Mall only to discover, with socks in hand....her hands....that I did not bring my wallet. You can imagine how well that went over with her. At the same time Rosemary chose to voice her dislike of the carseat and insisted to be put her Peanut sling which was only a temporary fix seeing how she would be placed right back into the chair of discomfort. Sadly I did for a brief moment consider driving home with her the way she was but then noticed the freezing rain outside and second guessed that idea.

Darnit.

I have spoken to soon. Rosemary has just realized that I have cruelly put her down asleep in her pack and play, something that is also viewed as a torture device these days. Camille has realized that she is indeed awake and has been now for over a half hour without anyone rescuing her from her room. And D is coming home late today. Oh the trials and tribulations of a stay at home mom.

Oh, so many post, so little time. If I just had a third arm I'd get done so much more.

Rosemary showing her face of disgust

Chasing Memories

2008-02-25T22:45:00.004-05:00

"Don't know how else to say it, don't want to see my parents go
One generation's length away
From fighting life out on my own......."

If you've read my sister's site, you know by now about my Dad. There is really no reason to go into great detail about his health since she already did a good job summing it up. I haven't wanted to talk about here, not sure if he wants me to talk about here, but since my sister did, I assume I can also.

Let me say that it's come as a pretty heavy blow to me but I refuse to give up hope that his fight isn't over with just yet. I just have to believe that this last medication can work, that it can keep the tumors at bay for a while giving us some more precious years with him. To give my daughters the memories that my nieces and nephews have. Right now, Camille and Rosemary won't remember my Dad, childhood memories don't begin until 3 years they say, and in that regard, my girls are getting jipped. Camille adores her Pop-pop and since his resent visit, it's all she talks about. Anytime she gets a bath she recounts her time in the pool with him and how she splashed. She tells me the story of how he splashed her back and swam in the big pool. I need her to have more memories, memories that will stick with her forever. I need Rosemary to have some memories.

It's just not fair, none of this is.

And that's all I will say for now.

Up to this point I've been able to keep all the emotions tucked away, all my fears and worries at bay and I'm afraid the moment I let them out, it just won't stop.

".......see once in a while when it's good
It'll feel like it should
And they're all still around
And you're still safe and sound...."

Best Case Scenario

2008-02-21T21:01:00.005-05:00

I knew my labor with Rosemary was not going to be as bad as it was with Camille. I had no medical reason to believe this or evidence that it would better and in most cases, you predict future events by past events. It was hard for my loved ones to feel the same way. D was so nervous during the weeks leading up to Rosemary's due date that he made himself sick. My poor mother was almost in tears when she discussed the "what ifs". But for me, I just believed it was going to go just as I had dreamt it would before I even know I was pregnant.

I believed and I was proven right.

I woke up at 6 am, now 5 days past my due date with the same excitement one does on Christmas morning. I had gone to bed the night before knowing that labor was coming but I knew staying awake waiting for the contractions to really hit would be counterproductive as I would be exhausted by morning. So, I forced myself to fall asleep and get some rest. When I woke up, I began timing my contractions. I didn't wake D up immediately, I wanted that time by myself to experience this and mentally prepare. My goal was to stay calm and keep my body and mind relaxed. I finally woke D up and our journey went from there. Before I knew it we were at the hospital just 3 hours later and 3 cm dilated where I was starting my rounds of antibiotics for GBS. My labor progressed smoothly as I bounced myself happily on the birthing ball while playing page after page of Soduko. I cracked jokes with D and the nursing staff while making phone calls to family and friends in between contractions. I was doing so well I sent D away to get me some lunch which is in stark comparison to Camille's labor where D had to stay right by my side to help me cope with the back labor.

But just like the entire pregnancy, this labor was different, it was what normal is supposed to be. By 4 pm I happily admitted that I was no longer willing to feel this uncomfortable and beckoned the Anesthesiologist to come and rescue me. But still, there was a smile on a face and a calmness in my voice. I refused to get uptight even when I was told that I couldn't get my epidural until I was given an actual room. I had been put in a room with barely a bed to deliver in and they needed to move out some other patients before a bed would be available. That bed come just an hour later at 5 pm when I was told that I was now 5-6 cm dilated.

Now, let me pause right there for a moment. I had now been in labor for 11 hours now and I was already halfway through. With Camille? After 11 hours? Didn't move an inch and sat at 3 cm. This was such good news that through painful contractions, I was elated and even more so was my superb epidural was put in and off I went to bed, still relaxed, still at peace and by then my sister had arrived along with my in-laws so I knew my sweet little girl was in good hands now. Once again, I sent D away, I wanted to sleep but that sleep didn't last long because before I knew, 7:30 pm came along with the realization that I was almost 10 cm and ready to push. D and my sister rushed back in to the room along with my OB/GYN with the request for me to give a little push to see where I was at and then an immediate demand to STOP pushing because Rosemary was about to come with nothing in the room to catch her!

8:00 pm came and finally a big contraction (which I didn't even feel by the way thanks to my lovely lovely epidural and my lovely lovely OB/GYN who believes no one should have to feel labor and keeps the epidural pushed up as long as you can push) and 3 pushes in under 60 seconds and there she was, my beautiful precious little girl. There was just the right amount of bleeding without any passing out and I was able to hold my daughter just seconds after she made her way into this world. She was and is perfect, just like her sister, but this time with a perfect delivery and the best case scenario happened. She nursed and latched on immediately and we haven't looked back. No soreness, no horrible engorgement like I had mentally prepared for, just the best case scenario played out from the first contraction to this exact moment and I'm sure will continue on.

Words can't even describe how amazing these past 3 weeks have been for me. I feel so complete with my girls and my husband. I am so in love with this little child and have fallen deeper in love with my husband and my oldest daughter.

Life is good, so, so good.

Transitioning

2008-02-07T09:36:00.000-05:00

Everyone told me going from 1 to 2 children is the hardest transition, harder than having your first. They were wrong. I think transitioning to having Camille was more difficult than the transition to Rosemary. Of course we have much better circumstances here, a lot more in our favor but all the hype people set me up with was for nothing. Now, I'm not saying this is a piece of cake, we're a little sleepy and learning Rosemary's likes and dislikes while trying to entertain Camille but the hardest transition? No, not really. I can think of harder. But looking at these two little ladies first thing every morning makes it all worth it.

She Comes . .

2008-01-30T23:08:00.000-05:00

Roughly 12 hours. Not to much pain. Easy epidural. 1 push later. She comes . .

Welcome baby Rosemary Pearl. You are so sweet and adorable. I already love watching you and holding you. Mommy is so glad that this was much easier than your crazy sister Camille but I will leave that up to her to tell everyone the story. Just know that Em is safe and doing fine. Baby Rosemary is well too and nursing like a champ. And me, I think it's time for bed.

Specs. . . .

Weight - 8 pounds, 1 ounce

Length - 20 inches

Time - 8:01 p.m.

More to come later!

Love,

Your Rent-A-Blogger

Not To Fancy

2008-01-30T15:00:00.000-05:00

FYI-She's in labor. Just 4 cm's at time of this post. Keep your fingers crossed for a fast one!

Love,

Rent-A-Blogger

Eviction Notice

2008-01-25T07:56:00.000-05:00

One would think that after 21 solid days of not posting you'd think that meant I had a baby by now and just forgot to tell you. Well, here's a clue to what's going on around here:

See that?

Yep, still pregnant, not budging. She's a smart one, my Rosemary, and has learned about the drastic drop in temperatures here in Frozen Tundra and has opted to stay in until Spring. If I thought the screams of her sister were enough to frighten her, the screams of her Mama freezing must have just tipped the scales.

But that is alright, I'm getting by, somehow. I was mentally prepared to not deliver before or around my due date. I knew I wasn't going to be one of those women and it works out for me. See that post below? The one listing all the things we still hadn't done yet? We did them, every last one of them so now I'm much more prepared.

So, really, that is all I have to say to for now. I'm off to lift heavy objects, jump up and down with Camille, basically anything I can do to inform Rosemary of her eviction notice.

(The reluctant Princess)

Of Bottles and Diapers

2008-01-04T14:16:00.000-05:00

When I was pregnant with Camille, I was totally prepare for her arrival to come in October. I had every single thing set to go: Carseat, stroller, rocking chair, diapers, wash clothes, Desitin. Everything was all nicely organized in pretty little piles all ready for our shining star to make her appearance. The pack n play had been unpacked already and played with once and packed back up and put nicely under the empty crib which was not filled with outgrown toddler clothes but instead a very curious big grey cat (which to this day I swear is part Puma). We were ready, Lamaze was taken, diaper bag was set.

I freaked out in the middle of the baby section at Target last night.

I am no more prepared for this baby as I am for Camille to go to Kindergarten. I have nothing, nada, not one single diaper. Sure sure, I have all her clothes in her drawers, which is a good thing because she'll be going through those quickly with no diaper on. And let's just pray that Rosemary doesn't get a diaper rash on her diaper less bottom because we have run out of Desitin since Camille got potty trained, I realized this at exactly 7:08 last night. And if she needs a bath? Hahaha! Maybe the cat can come over and bathe her seeing we have no bath seat and no wash clothes thanks to our friend hard water that totally ruined our last bath seat which, I loved with all my heart and shed a little tear when it broke.

Nope, not a damn thing, not even a stroller. See, I want this double stroller, I love this double stroller. Why, you ask? Well, apparently, unlike any of my or D's siblings, we inherited the Giraffe gene in the family and we look quite hunchback when strolling Camille as strollers apparently are only designed for the vertically challenged. But this stroller, it's biggest complaint for people is that the handle bars are to high which means they are perfect for us.

Oh and let's pray she nurses, because I haven't even unpacked the bottles.

Yeah, I did a baby registry like 3 months ago one night while I was bored but the poor thing sits there all by it's lonesome covered it dust. I just don't have the time to actually think about it.

There is no point here really except to announce to the whole Internet how unready I am and am sorta thanking my uncomfortable lucky stars that we still have 3 weeks left to type up directions to Target so my family members can run out in a mad dash and buy some damn diapers when they come!

Turning January

2008-01-02T07:54:00.000-05:00

A few days back my sister asked me a question about when the baby comes. Honestly, I don't remember the question but I do remember this: I responded to said question by saying something along the lines of worrying about in January to which she said, sorta as I don't remember her exact wording but it doesn't matter here, January is next week.

*Thump*

That was the sound my head made when yesterday, it turned January. I have exactly 23 days until my due date. 3 1/2 weeks until my due date. On Friday I'll have only 3 weeks left until my due date.

People, in a few shorts weeks I'm having a baby, another baby.

When I went to the doctor's on Monday I was mildly disappointed when he very casually snickered at the thought of me coming early and instead assured me that my body is loving this pregnancy and it's his best guess that I'll be pregnant up until my due and maybe even a few days afterwards. I would disagree with him but sadly he's a pretty smart guy when it comes to baby's as he's the top dog doctor at my delivering hospital and is so wise like that that he's going to Mexico next week with his residence from the hospital to teach a remote village how to properly deliver babies. At the moment I was bitter but then I realized that by saying I'd be on time, we're only talking like 3 1/2 MORE WEEKS.

*Deep breath just taken*

I'm excited about meeting Rosemary. Let me say that. And let me also say how much I do love my unborn child. I think it's going to be great being a Mama to two girls and am comfortable already referring to them as "The girls".

But I am sad also.

I absolutely adore Camille. I hate the thought of being away from her so much that I don't think she'll be going to Preschool. I just adore that funny little child and don't like not being with her day and night. She truly is amazing and if you haven't met her in person, I suggest you do it someday. The thought of another child invading her little space, honestly, it makes me a little sad. I worry about how Camille will feel and if I'm jipping her of something, I don't know what, but just something I won't be aware of. Will she still be happy and enjoy her days with me? Will she still know how much I completely adore her? Will I adore Rosemary as much as I adore Camille? What happens if I adore Rosemary more?

I know it will all work out. Plenty of people have more than one child and the oldest child adjust perfectly. They don't see it the way we, the parents do and we end up putting all this worrying in for no good reason so I just try to not think about it.

3 1/2 more weeks people.

January seriously just snuck up on me.

Monsty

2007-12-26T23:46:00.000-05:00

2 years ago, at exactly 4:56 am I met Camille. We had a long 36 hours of labor, but finally, she decided to come on her own terms, on her time. And thus began that incredible journey of motherhood for me.
12 months ago we celebrate that day in our new home, with our new 1 year old. I thought then what an awesome experience it had been up to that point to be this incredible little girls Mom. I couldn't imagine it could have gotten any better.
24 months later, I still have absolutely no regrets quitting my job and making life changes so I could stay home with my daughter. If I thought life with a one year old fun, never could I have imagined how life with this 2 year old could be. Camille is amazing and she has taught me so much about myself, more than I thought I ever had to learn. The journey at times has been quite exhausting and I find my patience a little tested, but it's been worth it.

Camille, if you ever get a chance to read this one day, please know how absolutely wonderful you are. I pray to God you will look back at your childhood and feel nothing but the love that your Dada and I have for you. I pray you will always know how deeply your wanted, how strongly you are respected and how never ending our love is for you.

If I thought these past 24 month have been fun, I can't imagine want the next 12 will bring us.

Happy 2nd Birthday Monsty!

Merry Christmas to All...

2007-12-25T00:23:00.001-05:00

and to all a good night

Hateful

2007-12-12T20:08:00.000-05:00

So you know what I hate the most about this whole parenting gig?

Potty Training.

This is the part of the show where, for the only single time ever in the 24 months of parenting, I wish my child was in daycare to let them handle it.

I hate potty training and believe it's yet another curse God put on us thanks to good ole' Adam and Eve. Ha! You thought labor was bad, try convincing a strong willed almost 2 year old to put pee-pee in the damn potty already.

Do you know clean my sinks are right now? They sparkle, I can almost see my damn reflection because we spend so much time in the bathroom. I'm starting to forget what daylight looks like. But hey, at least I'm getting my Christmas cards done but please excuse me if you have some toilet tissue stuck to yours, it's the potty chairs fault.

Camille is doing what is expected of a strong willed 2 year old when it comes to the potty. Today we finally saw some progress as she peed for what felt like 3 hours because she still hasn't caught onto emptying the bladder. Instead she goes a little, gets all proud of herself and jumps up to see her accomplishment. Well, she did that up until 5:30 pm when I left for my aerobics class and D was now in charge of a potty training, no nap today almost 2 year old. She peed, oh yes, she peed, but all over the couch, the carpet and then proclaimed that pee-pee belongs in the potty not the couch.

Thanks Camille, you have such insight.

From 9 am up until naptime at 2 pm today she did great. She was the golden toddler of potty training. I was feeling hopeful that we were almost sorta there. But now I'm nervous about tomorrow and coming up with a logical reason as to why in 2 short hours she regressed already. For now I'm blaming day 2 of no naps because Mama has been to damn tired to make her nap and am just thankful she's quietly playing in her room.

Oh dear God I hope that's the reason.

Did I mention how much I hate potty training?

Grrrrrrr.

P.S. I'm wondering how many pervs will be googling this site with all the "pee" words in it now?!

FFG Alert

2007-12-01T14:46:00.000-05:00

Baby Jordan has been born!! Go to FFG's site for details!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you know me well, you know that I don't answer call waiting when I'm on the other line. It's a phobia really, I don't like answering the phone unless I know who's calling. I blame it on caller id, whom I can't live without but have to when it comes to call waiting because the phone company has found yet another way to leech more money out of us and charge us more than I want to pay for this little service. Instead I rely solely on *69, which yes, I know cost money, but believe it or not, for as much as I use it, it is still cheaper than being leeched.

My point?

Oh yes, that.

I like to know who's calling, so when I get a strange number I tend to research it, especially when it's from an area code I don't recognize, like, let's say Texas. Who do I possibly know in Texas?

Hmmmmmm.....light bulb, light bulb, wait for it, it will go off for me eventually.

So yes, I received a call last night from my lovely and oh so sweet cousin (in-law) and your fearless blogger FFG alerting me that she had been having cramping all day yesterday, and based on the ultrasound at her doctor's, she was 3cm dilated so off to the hospital she went. This morning they checked her and from my last conversation with her, they suspected that Jordan was weighing a healthy 7lbs. and was not about to stay in for another week! She would have been 36 weeks on Monday, but based on her latest text message, he should be here before then because they broke her water early this afternoon. She has received 2 shots of steroids for his lungs, so I'm pretty confident that Mama and Baby should be a-okay.

That's all I know for now. But trust me, I'm dying to call but am positive a ringing phone would not appreciated at this point so you'll just have to wait along with me!!

5 long years

2007-11-26T16:11:00.000-05:00

For the entire 5 years I have lived in Antarctica I have complained. Non stop. That's right, non-stop complaining and if you don't believe me, believe the poor ears of friends who have had to put up with my non-stop complaining and trust me, they will tell you how much they've had to put up with. Poor souls.

It has taken 5 years of non-stop complaining to stop complaining. Well, not completely stop, that wouldn't be any fun. But I now mix a healthy complaint with a spoonful of positive.

It took 5 years. I was advised by very wise counsel that it could take that long and trust me, 5 years ago I scoffed at wise counsel as if to say "I won't stop at five years. I'll take your five years and top it with 10 years".

Same wise counsel also advised that a day would come when I would want to just stay home for the holidays in my own home with my own traditions with the little family I have created for myself. Again, scoff, scoff, scoff. That would never come because I would always, always travel hours and hours and slice and dice myself up between 3 Thanksgiving celebrations.

Guess what? That day came and the lesson to learn here: Never scoff at wise counsel. They are wise because they've been there.

I stayed in Antarctica this year for Thanksgiving. Something I thought I would never do, we did and I feel slightly guilty when I say, it was still a wonderful Thanksgiving even though it was spent in Antarctica. Let me tell you, these folks know how to do Thanksgiving.

My choice to stay was one based solely on medical reasons. I didn't have the prettiest post delivery scenario with Camille and due to that, I'm attached to my Dr.'s hip like glue. We have a plan to keep me from not passing out this time and from not requiring a double blood transfusion. Oh, let's not forget to throw in double pneumonia for goodness sakes. We decided not to take any chances and stay home, let's not test the fates here. I was sad at first with this decision. I teared up and felt all sorts of sorry for myself. But once I decided to end my tail of woes, I looked around and realized that we had more invitations than I knew what to do with. Our choice brought us to our dear friends family celebration were we felt loved and welcomed. And the best part? No passive aggressive slurs from parental figures on how unfair it was that they got less time or so and so got more time or how we didn't stay awake long enough or eat enough of the food or ate to much food or only stayed a short while when last month they got a longer while.

It felt like home and the drive only took 15 minutes to get there, and 5 long years of complaining.

Failure

2007-11-20T15:33:00.000-05:00

Ummm, yeah, I failed the challenged. I'm a quitter, I do realize that and I'm sorry. But really it was totally unrealistic of me to even consider taking on yet another project at this stage of my life. Being pregnant with a toddler is a project enough and come evening I'm so zonked I can't see straight. Plus, hell, you fine folks stopped commenting so I lost my will post, so it's you're fault really, blame your own darn selves..hahaha! How's that for passing the buck?

Seriously though, that little stretch of time that I was kicking the challenges butt I did come realize how much I miss writing even if no one is there reading. It was quite cathartic and it made me feel good, when I could keep my eyes open long to write. There are weeks in this pregnancy when I'm full of energy, those however are the same weeks that we take a break from household projects in lieu of Rosemary's arrival. D and I have worked our selves crazy getting this place put together and I'm proud to say that our to-do list only contains one more small task which I won't be helping with, hallelujah, because hanging closet doors falls more into his Engineering expertise so I leave it to him.

And this is a good time to add that we won't be traveling at all, anywhere, for the holiday this week and may I please say how relieved I am about that. I'm to exhausted at this point to pack and travel and visit and then travel some more. We're staying home sweet home with ourselves and only ourselves. It will be a strange change as for the last 30+ years of my life have been spent with family. My entire family will be together though, without me (hmph) but that is okay. Sometimes in life you learn that you must put yourself and your health first above everyone elses. This is a lesson I'm finding hard to learn.

So, for you two readers who still visit, I promise, although I have failed the challenge, the short time I attempted did reignite my love of writing so I will be back soon, after I wake up that is.

Help Wanted

2007-11-12T21:54:00.000-05:00

I'm typically not one to ask for help and receiving help from strangers is usually accepted with much hesitance. I blame my Granny, because you must blame some family members for certain behaviors, as I get my strong willed mentality from her and her Mother (so I hear).

Today while grocery shopping, I was almost finished up and out of nowhere my bladder felt like it was on the verge of failure. I knew it was pointless finding the nearest restroom as I had a cart full of food and a toddler whom I would have to carry in with me to the bathroom. I just didn't have the bladder control for all of that. Instead, while watching my groceries get rung up and my bill go sky high I constructed a plan on how I was going to maneuver the shopping cart, the toddler and the bags to the car. Of all days I parked far far away from the cart drop off, so this added an additional element of suspense. As I was in my daze, the guy bagging my groceries asks me if I needed additional help. I paused, he paused almost looking like a deer in headlights as he pointed to my protruding stomach as if to say "Oh dear God please tell me you are pregnant and don't just have a huge beer gut" and I got it. I now officially look worn out with my waddles and my toddlers that the sweet high school bagger shows me mercy. I almost said no, but thank you and was going to walk away when Rosemary gave me a swift kick to remind of how stupid it would be to deny such help during this crucial, code red bladder time.

So I accepted with no regret and hesitation.

I swear, sometimes I can be so stupid!

Success

2007-11-11T22:56:00.000-05:00

Ahhhhh....you hear that?

That is my sigh of relief as I think about all we got accomplished this weekend.

Both girls rooms are done, complete, finished.

Sorta, for the exception of small things, like curtains for Camille's windows (GranMama is working on that) and a new rocking chair and bookshelf for Rosemary's room (no need to buy that until January) everything upstairs is done.

I know, I know the word that pops into everyone's mind: Nesting.

But you're wrong. As D said, I've been nesting since we got married because I work like this all the time, especially when things are bothering me, like now, things are bothering me. Or were bothering me, up until this evening. When things are bothering me, and I feel out of control, I clean, quite therapeutic.

And it's very nice to go bleh in the faces of those who claim I procrastinate.

Bleh!

Selective Mercy

2007-11-10T21:48:00.000-05:00

Camille isn't one to take major changes with out a fight. Last month we decided to "start" potty training. I had every intention for us to fail, not that I had a bad attitude about it, just a realistic attitude based on our experience with the transition from things like the bottle to cup, formula to milk and her lack of enthusiasm for walking. All three of these were struggle, so I was okay when we decided to stop and take a step back, thanks to some great advice from an very wise friend. That's not to say she didn't show some good signs, she just acted her normal self. She didn't have any accidents while at home, none what so ever. That's good, right? Well, sort of. Instead she just refused to go. At all. Like for 4 hours of refusal to go but yet she would cry that she wanted to go. And when she finally sat to go? Huge, HUGE battle. So we stepped back and gave her some space. Now she's ready, I can tell. She now tells me every time she has gone and refuses to sit in a full diaper. However, we decided to not go back to potty training until we had her moved into her new bedroom.

See, there is one thing, just one small thing Camille will give pity to us on. She will sleep anywhere, she's nice like that. Go to Mimi and Beepa's for the first time and put her in a double bed as opposed to her toddler bed? Doesn't make a sound. Even when we moved into this house last year, never had set foot inside of the house before, she slept like an angel.

D and I have worked our fingers raw since Friday getting this new room together. Today we put the final touches of paint in the closet and put up her new bookshelf. The plan was to be nice parents and move her in tomorrow so she could start out in there during nap. But our child, our sweet girl who keeps reminding us who really is in charge here was determined to sleep in her room tonight. This determination was made clear at 6:30 this evening, just 1 hour before bedtime. It's now 10:00. And as of this moment she is sound to sleep, no fight, no mess, no nothing.

But sippy cups? Milk? Potty training? Those things she shows us no mercy for.

Simply Brilliant

2007-11-09T22:12:00.000-05:00

I've come up with a brilliant idea to get through these NaBloMoPo weekends without cheating. Weekends are always hard because you know no one ever reads so why waste the time?

So for Friday blogging this month, here's what we're doing:

You remember way back when and how every Friday I did Lunch on Fridays and highlighted new sites? Well, I'm not going to do exactly that, but something close enough, just to keep things interesting here and if you're nice, I might even carry it through the month of November and keep it a regular here, if you keep reading! I'm going to bring to light my favorite post of the week, the one I think you should be reading if you're not already.

This site has been my favorite since I started blogging 3 (whole) years ago and I've "seen" this amazing person go through so many changes as she has found her place in this world. I have followed her from being a Mama of 1 in a tiny apartment to the birth of her son and finally to what seems like a peaceful place in her life, in her own home and her own skin. She has inspired me in so many ways, more than she probably even realizes! I know I mentioned her yesterday, but she wrote a great post the other day about the lead paint issue with toys from China. She is thought provoking with a good sense of humor. I challenge you this weekend to go through her site and get inspired like I have!

Enjoy!

Enough being Enough

2007-11-08T21:15:00.000-05:00

Recently, a few friends of mine, who also stay home with their kids, have expressed a desire to go back to work. We all know, those of us who stay home, how hard it can be, how demanding this job can be. There are days when it feels like my old job wasn't nearly as consuming as this new job is so whenever a fellow Mom expresses her desire or shares a daydream about going back to work we all nod in understanding. But the reasons I'm hearing have nothing to do with needing a break or the desire to be able to sit for more than 5 minutes without someone demanding a sippy cup refill. Instead it was a shared desire for more money to be able to afford that bigger house, the nicer car and trendier brand clothes and accesories. To each his own, we are all driven by different things.

But these conversations recently have gotten me to thinking: When is enough, enough. How much will it take until we are content?

So you get that bigger house, that bigger, newer house but you also get that bigger mortgage. You finally buy that nicer car, the one where you take out even more of a loan with a larger payment each month. Happily you now can walk into any store and afford that 1K purse but how long will that keep a smile plastered to your face? How many more handbags will you have to buy to keep your face looking that way. And let's not even go to the fact that half of Americans are so far in debt they'll never be free of it. How about that noose around your neck? Is it really that comfortable?

Rachel and her simple living mentality has really started me to thinking. I remember a post she had a few months back about consumerism and how she couldn't walk out of a Target empty handed. She commented, and it stuck for some strange reason "Do my kids really need another sippy cup". I know, strange comment to stick with me, but somehow it did and she has started me on a new wave of thinking of when is enough enough. When did become so cliche to just be content and thankful for the things we have. When will be happy? How much more do we need? Don't get me wrong, I like nice things. I dress my daughter nicely along with myself and D. I like my house to be decorated and match. But what I don't want is for it to be the driving force in my life that it controls everything about me. I want to be able to get to a point where I fully content with what I have.

These friends, we all live in a nice neighborhood. Own decent cars. Have resources to treat ourselves to a cup of coffee when we please or dinner with our families. Maybe it's because my view on what is enough has changed, but I feel immensely blessed. I don't desire that bigger, newer house. I like my home, it fits us just fine. I don't desire that nicer car. I love my Honda, it also fits me. And as far as walking into a store and buy whatever I want at whatever price? My only way to respond to that is those are the exact type of people I thank because I know in just a few short months it just won't be enough anymore and it'll wind up in my local Salvation Army where I'll buy your $50 jeans for $5!

Free Birth Control

2007-11-07T15:49:00.000-05:00

You know what you get when you mix a 2 year old with a little bit of Daylights savings time?

Let it be noted, just moments before this video was filmed, she was screaming, really really screaming. Desperate times calls for desperate measures and this seems like the only thing to ~~shut her up~~ appease her.

Toddler interpreter: Smile {scream scream scream} Sorry Mama Screaming {scream scream scream} Done Screaming {scream scream scream} Please may I have MILK in that exact order.

**blogger is on my last nerve with this darn double video picture thing, there's nothing in the code telling me it's just there, they're playing with my mind...Jerks!

Caught Up

2007-11-06T22:31:00.000-05:00

Two months back, while I was busy ignoring this site for various reasons that will only bore the majority of you, I won an award, a blogging award at that. The sweet and talented sunShine bestowed my site with a Nice Matters Award because she thinks I'm nice, and I think I'm nice to so I'm definitely not going to disagree with her. Of course, it hasn't been very nice of me to not mention it here or continue with Nice Award by giving to 5 other bloggers. And since it's NaBloMoPo season, it couldn't be a better time.

So, who do I think is nice?

In no particular order:

Heels: I love her. She's funny and witty and I think her son is edible, he is that cute Enough said.

Kristi (Interrupted Wanderlust): I snagged her Peppermint Bark Recipe last Christmas and staple in my diet. I will now always adore her.

Shooters Station: Now, we both are sporadic commenter's on each others site, but she's a gem here in the blogging world.

Becci (Bedrest and Beyond): If we were twins, she'd be the nicer one. Really, I don't think the girl has a mean bone in her body.

FFG: She married into my family, the poor thing is so brave. And also, I had to find a way to incorporate this adorable picture of the two of us into this site somehow!

**For now, I'm not linking because there is this nagging little sign on the top of my screen from our friends here at Blogger informing me that there will be a scheduled outage in exactly 12 minutes and darnit to heck, I'm all caught up with my posts here and I'll be darned if I fall of track. Look at it as a little brain teaser as you search through my link list for the awardee's.

Cookie Cutters

2007-11-05T21:41:00.001-05:00

There was question posted on the boards with the Meetup group that I'm apart of here in Antarctica. I typically don't chime in and enjoy being an observer instead but a recent question posed by a member brought on some answers that started to make me break my own rules. The person, who owns their own children's center, asked what theme parties people would be interested in seeing at her center. Every person chimed in with the same top 5 answers. I found myself jumping up and down shaking my head in frustration so that the next thing I knew I found myself explaining how my child would not find a Spanish speaking doll very entertaining nor would she find any humor in a group of grown men dress up liked clowns (are they clowns?) singing ridiculous songs. So instead I gave ideas that would be perfect for child like mine, which, I guess she has been labeled as a Non-TV kid.

It wasn't really something we planned. My goal was to make it to 18 months. I read some articles that recommended parents wait, I agreed, so I waited. 18 months came and went and we just have never gotten around to turning it and to be honest with you? I'd kinda prefer not too. I like the peace and quiet.

Another thread emerged from my post about having this Non-TV mentality. People where shocked and just couldn't figure out what on earth I do with my day without the power of TV. I told them about all the activities we do and how she now will entertain herself while I clean. My answers weren't really accepted with open arms, let's just say. So, I really didn't know how else to explain without offending 3/4 of the group so I just dropped it. But the more I think about it, I can't help but ask myself what they heck ercks me about the whole thing. I could blame it on my repulsion to commercialism, but that still wasn't a good enough answer, it sorta was a B.S. answer that did make a lot sense, but wasn't the whole truth.

So what is the whole truth? You really want to know?

I don't want to raise a cookie cutter kid, there I admitted it.

Why?

Simple. I'm a non-conformist, I can admit it. I come from a very long (no pun intended to those family members who actually just got that) line of non-conformist. From my Great Grandmother to my Mom, we just don't conform. I was raised without pop culture invading our home and I think was the only kid in 7th grade who wasn't all wooed by boy bands. Instead I found deeper appreciation in the sounds of Simon and Gartfunkel. Without knowing it, this lineage of non-conformity was passed down to me and it somehow has creeped into how I raise my daughter and my daughter to be. I don't want her to be like everyone just because everyone else thinks it's the thing right now. I refused to teach her sign language and we don't own any clothes with any PBS characters plastered on them. I don't like the whole bandwagon approach to anything.

Do you think that answer would hold up well on the Meetup boards?

Goes around, comes around

2007-11-04T22:13:00.000-05:00

Vest: circa 1976

Sweater/Hat: circa 1976

My Treasure

2007-11-03T22:22:00.000-04:00

You know what is amazing to me?

That inside of here:

Hides this beautiful little treasure:

Filler

2007-11-02T20:30:00.000-04:00

My excuse for day 2:

Gran-Mama was visiting which meant I was able to take naps.

And yes, my child is wearing patent boots with a fleece sleeper and a brown bow in her hair. What can I say, she's obsessed with her shoes!

Tricked Out

2007-11-01T20:33:00.000-04:00

One thing is for sure, last years Halloween sucked. Okay, maybe that is a strong word, how about it didn't meet any of my expectations. For starters, we had to borrow a neighborhood as we were still in our apartment. And the "friends" we went with sorta went off on their own with their friends and we sorta were left standing there holding the bag, or the pumpkin, whatever.

But this year?

Well, this year Halloween was everything that I imagined it to be when you have a child, and live in a neighborhood, with actual neighbors who know you and not just the people you were with. We went with 2 of our neighbors and we all are friends so that made it even better. The icing on the cake was Camille and the response that I had hoped she would have. She ran up to every door and said her trick or treat and moved on from house to house full of excitement and pronounced hesitation to go back home.

It was great.

It was everything I wanted.

Enough said.

Countdown

2007-10-25T08:35:00.000-04:00

I'm not posting again until a week from today, which I am sure is a huge shock for the 3 readers that I do have left. But, never fear my 3 loyal readers as I have, in a bout of insanity, signed up once again for NaBloMoPo. You remember, the whole challenge from last November to post for the entire month? Ha! It's a joke really, I can't even post three times a month at this rate and my life is so crazy busy right now I barely have time to sit down. Not to mention that I'm sharing the laptop with D as the desktop has died on us and we really can't justify fixing it when there is a room to carpet and paint and rocking chairs and t-shirts to buy. This parenting gig, whoever thought it would come with such responsibilities. But, never fear, I have at least 3 post already in my head that I need to write, one of which includes an award from one of my three readers. So, come back, next Thursday and let's see if I can do this. Until then, I must go and tend to the needs of the cat.

Top of the Morning

2007-10-12T07:33:00.000-04:00

I love my house first thing in the morning. As D gets dressed for work, he turns on the light to start to wake me up, kisses me goodbye, grabs his coffee and puts the garage door up. That's the sign that all is clear, the clicking of the door, I wait for it every morning and then push myself out of bed, down the hall to my waiting coffee that my husband has thoughtfully made for me. I sit in my kitchen, and in absolute silence, sip my morning fuel and check my emails. No one around to bother me, well, except the cat but all he wants is pet pets and that is okay because he doesn't ruin my train of thoughts. There's no demands, no whining about the 10th injury within 10 minutes of being up. It's just me.

Every night before I go to bed I make sure the house is picked up. Everything is clean, the couches have all their pillows lined up perfectly. The dining room table is clear from all meals from that day. All of Camille's toys have been put in their rightful place, typically hidden out of sight in the end tables next to the couch, thank goodness for the doors as they hide the chaos. The kitchen shows no signs of dirty dishes and the counters shine after a good clean. These little things make my mornings go even smoother and my relaxation even more profound.

In the days before Camille, the days of working outside of the home I would wake up at the very last moment possible, rush through the shower, throw on some clothes, slap on some make up, quickly pour some coffee in yesterday's travel mug and rush out the door to work. Once I had Camille, and it finally sank in that my time was no longer my own, I took my mothers advice to heart and became committed to waking up before her. It's what my mom said she used to do with my sisters and I. Now the mornings that I've slept in late and only get a sliver of that time before Camille wakes up, those days feel rushed and I'm praying for nap time to come quickly. I rush through lunch and barely read Camille a book because I desperately need my time.

I wonder how it will be once Rosemary comes. How long will she take to get on our perfectly planned schedule. Camille is a late riser, at this moment, 7:45 a.m., she is still asleep. I expect her to wake up in about 15 minutes but even then, she likes her time in her room. She'll play for about a half hour before she calls for me, I've trained her this way. Will I incorporate Rosemary into my quiet time which could be our only sliver of Mommy and Baby time? Or will I long for the days, the quiet mornings where the only demands put on me are by an over sized Puma and his purrs?

Retrospect

2007-09-29T13:44:00.000-04:00

I have been finding myself wandering back to last year and being completely amazed how much 12 simple months could make. Our lives are nothing compared to what they were this time last Fall.

Life had been so uncomfortable for us during that time, we didn't know which way to turn and everything just felt so uncertain. There were so many unknowns. Now we sit here, the strongest our marriage has been by far, as we build not and not tear down, in our home. Not a 900 square foot apartment but a home, a place to call our own. And we finally feel like we're home, in this frosty place I like to call Antarctica, but it is home.

We've cultivated new friendships and have begun to allow myself to plant some roots as I learn to cut some old ones. I think when I got married, I never quite understood the concept of "Leave and cleave" until recently when I was forced to look around and see the only one still standing by my side was husband, who I finally let become my biggest supporter. It was a rude awakening and one that still causes some pain, but I know it's where I need to be because I strongly believe if my marriage isn't okay, my child won't be okay. I know there has been a friendly debate over at FFG's site about who should come first, the husband or the child and although I didn't chime in over there, I have been putting a lot of thought into it.

Coming from a single parent home, I guess I always felt that I wanted to give my kids something I never had in life: A Mom and Dad who actually love and respect each other. I wanted to show them what a loving marriage looked like. I want my kids to know that I do put their Dad above them because if he and I are okay? Then they're okay because they have stability staring right at them.

Right now, I feel at peace. I have a wonderful husband, a new little girl kicking inside of me, and the opportunity to wake up to this adorable face every day.

Alive and Well

2007-09-11T17:43:00.000-04:00

I had a dream before I knew I was pregnant. I dreamt that I had just given birth to a 10lb baby. D and I commented how the baby looked just like Camille but with less hair. Somehow the dream fast forwarded to a month later and I was at my Mom's nursing the baby and next commented how great it was to have given birth without any complications this time.

Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I was nervous and scared and anxious that I would loose this pregnancy, this wonderful surprising pregnancy but I clung to that dream and believed with all my heart that God has sent it to me to give me peace of mind. To tell me that this was His plan. That this baby was going to be just fine.

I have clung to that dream for the past 20 weeks.

But yesterday I needed that baby to be the gender it was in my dream. I needed it to keep a hold of the hope that was alive inside of me.

I don't remember being so nervous with Camille's big ultrasound. I do remember being excited and full of anticipation. But yesterday I was nervous. No matter what this baby was, I would love it beyond description but I wanted this dream to have been prophetic. You might not be able to understand that, but my Mom does, and sometimes that's all you need. I could see my heartbeats on the ultrasound screen and I knew I had to calm down, but I just needed to know, now.

As the technician was taking my measurements, just moments after telling me she couldn't confirm the baby's gender just yet, she slipped. She said her and my heart almost jumped out of my body. I knew that she knew that I heard, the look on her face confirmed that. But that was okay with me because just a few minutes later, after the baby's bladder became full, she finally made it official:

My Rosemary, there she was and there was my dream, alive and well.

Withholder

2007-09-11T07:26:00.000-04:00

It's not like I intentionally don't tell you people things. It just happens; time starts slipping way, updating moves further and further down the proverbial, ongoing "to-do" list and the next thing I know I feel like I'm withholding vital information from you. I was all "Hey look, I'm pregnant" and then I disappear like in the good ole days when Mom's would send their daughters away for 9 months and then they would magically reappear. And then there's that other little child of mine that has almost been forgotten about here and you all start to wonder if I am staying at home to care for the cat and just the cat.

I have a great excuse though:

Our computer is fried. So fried that even our brilliant computer tech friend couldn't get it to work, and if he can't fix it, ain't no one can fix it. A new thingy mabobby will cost over $100 so D contemplates whether we should spend the $100 on that or save it for doing other things, like possibly putting a floor down in the basement, we are frivolous. In the meantime, while he hums and haaaas we are sharing the laptop, my laptop, or the laptop that was D's until I busted mine and then immediately put claim on his. It's mine. But we're sharing it and it's been good for us because I actually see my husband in the evenings after the child goes to sleep. I'd prefer for the desktop to not ever get fixed but I know it will have to because there is only so much of sports one female should be expected to watch.

But, my withholding, oh my, it's good.

Let's start with the eldest child:

Two or so weeks ago (I know, I know, this should've been posted that long ago) D and I sat one Saturday afternoon during Camille's nap discussing the dilemna that was the crib. Do we buy a new one for Camille? Do we put the old one in her new room and just keep Bean in the Pack n' Play? Oh the choices that needed to be made that actually, about on hour later was being made for us. D went in to release Camille from nap and found her with one leg in and one leg out. For the next 24 hours this how we would find her each and everytime she had been put into her crib. So, that was that. A toddler bed came up on Craigslist, we snatched it and it's been smooth sailing ever since.

See, Camille has fought be on every single developmental milestone she was to reach. Tummy time? Screamed through it. Bottles to cups? Refused. Formula to Milk? Didn't drink for days. Walking? Not for her. You can see how I was not looking forward to this one. Apparently Camille felt bad for me and cut me a break because she LOVES her bed and she HATES the threat of toys* being taken out of her room if she gets out of bed, especially when I follow through and actually remove them for a day. So it's been good and she is darndest cutest girl out there, hands down.

Secondly, and this post is way longer than I had planned:

We got the BIG ultrasound yesterday and I might possibly know what I'm having but I'll post that later** today because, really, is anyone still reading?

*by toys, I mean a basket of hats and a basket of shoes
** simmer down, the post has already been written so all I'll is sit down later on and click "Publish" only after I feel like I have your attention

Tea and Sympathy

2007-08-24T15:29:00.000-04:00

Sometimes you just need a break. You need to cut ties and walk away and reassess where you are coming from and where you want to be in life. These past 5 months have been trying on me emotionally for reasons that I have never mentioned here on this site. If there is one lesson I've learned in the past year, it is to watch what I say here very carefully. When in the heat of things, words can be misconstrued and further wound a weaning relationship. I've learned that lesson very well as my words sent daggers, as unintentional as they were, I caused further damage. So months back I found myself there once again up against an Army of people I thought would never up rise against me, but here I was and here I still stand with this Army on my back.

This has been a good learning experience, a good lesson in maturity and growth. I didn't realize I needed a hiatus until a few weeks upon returning from a trip. I just needed a break from.....everything. I needed time to get my thoughts in line and make healthy decisions and deal with the drama around me in a productive manner. My decision to not write about it was one made based upon maturity. My decision to no longer engage in unneeded conflict has been one that does not seem natural as my whole life has revolved around the drama that is my family. Oh, we put that fun in dysfunctional, trust me. But I'm not team player any longer.

Two words that have ruled my mind in these past weeks:

Peace and Tranquility

I don't find the need to rehash stories to friends over tea and beg for them to give me some unneeded sympathy. I don't need that. What we all need is to learn how to be the bigger person and let it go all for the sake of peace. No one else will follow me, that I am sure. I am now on the outside looking in puzzled as to what draws us all to thrive on the fighting, to thrive on the name calling and poison pen letters. Oh, the words, they have been like daggers to my soul and as much as I would love to lash back out via this site or an email I hear that still small voice whispering "You don't understand it, let it go". At times I don't understand even what that means, but I hear it and I obey. I let it go, as much as it pains my pride to be treated that way, I just let it go, I walk away. But I don't find I am walking away mad, I just walk away out of what is best for everyone involved.

This is also true to people around me, not just the drama that continually engulfs my family like a fire. Maybe it's me, maybe I've just been so programmed to live in the drama of my family that I search for that same thing in everyday relationships. It's almost like I'm not comfortable unless there is some riff going on somewhere and I'm right in the middle of it.

But it's getting old, these useless battles and all the fighting and scoreboards of who did what to who and who said what last and who's turn is to fight back.

I'm done fighting. But what is interesting to me is that I'm not angry, mad, upset or even grudge holding against anyone. I love my parents. I love my Mom and my Dad. I love my sisters. I love my friends who don't love me and technically the same family members mentioned above who don't even like me.

I don't know if I'm back for good yet. I'm not sure if I'm ready to leave this little cocoon of serenity just yet. We'll see soon, but I did have to put you at peace to know that I'm okay. Well, I'm better than okay, I'm fabulous. I feel great about my life, about where I am in my life and the people in my life. I'm great, I'm just trying to figure out how to keep it that way.

Hijacked

2007-07-13T08:15:00.000-04:00

I had another ultrasound yesterday which I chose not to share with you fine people because I obviously have a tendency to leave you hanging for not only days, but weeks at a time. I am jerk, yes, I know. But don't worry, the ultrasound was routine and normal which I cannot say about my delightful daughter. Bean, from what I was able to actually hear over my daughter's screams and shrills, is doing great. I slightly remember seeing arms, legs and a cute little head but then my attention was immediately turned to my child hurling her cup of pretzels all over the floor and then repeatedly asking me to pick them up. How do you explain to a 18 month old that right now, at this very second, you have gooey gel all over your stomach touching your half exposed body. Simply said, yesterday was a nightmare, a complete and total nightmare.

I don't know who the hell thought it would be funny to hijack my daughter and replace her with a completely obnoxious look alike, but let me tell you people, I sure as hell was not laughing. She was so absolutely horrific that the nurse heard her from down the hall and came in to rescue me, well, really it was her because I was just about to pause the damn ultrasound, roll her across the street to the Farmer's Market and a put a "Free" sign on her. And in her normal 18 month old state, the moment the nurse asked her what was wrong? This maniac child of mine, almost like she had a split personality, in a sweet voice asked "Color, Crayon, Please?"

Oh that child.

The ultrasound ended. I grabbed the stroller and whispered sweet nothings in her ear which I am sure were not so sweet and we were on our way to the nurses offices to draw blood. The fun wasn't over yet because she had just one more tantrum left in her which she decided to drop on me after the blood work. I jumped up off the chair, grabbed the marker and paper that she had thrown and frantically tried to reason with this child. Before I knew it the nurse was yelling at me to sit the hell down and I was shocked that she was now all frantic until I looked at my arm and noticed blood pouring out like a little sprinkler. I had covered her floor in blood. And my shirt was now soaked in blood. I didn't hear her tell me to keep pressure on the darn thing because all I could hear was my daughter shrieking.

I left the office slightly amused. Here I am, covered in blood, pushing my banshee daughter in her stroller arching her back, into a waiting room full of glowing first time Mom's rubbing their belly's in delight. The moment they saw me, terror washed over their faces as they questioned all rational on having a child. Just think, 2 years down the road they could be just like me!! Yeehaw!!

The moment I put her in her carseat, she smiled a huge grin and in a sweetsy cutesy voice said "Sorry, Mama". I knew she knew that her behavior was not good. I told her that there would be no toys in her crib for quiet time and she knew. She wasn't happy and kept saying "Sorry, toys please". No ma'am, no way. I was not about to reward her for that behavior, I don't parent that way. We got home, went into her room, gave her a hug and a kiss and put her in crib and one by one removed her toys then left.

Just to add insult to injury, after I left her in her room, in her crib now empty of toys, she proceeded to throw a tantrum (apparently she did have one more left). I gave myself 15 minutes of cool off time and decided I did at least need to go and give her her cup of milk and tell her I loved her. She had finished yelling at me and was quiet, too quiet. As I opened the door I noticed her smearing something all over her face with a huge grin plastered on it. Blood. Everywhere. During her fit she busted her lip.

Sometimes, there will just be days like this. She is still in her crib. It is 8:30 and thank goodness she slept in today. It's a brand new day and the thing about being a Mom, is you have to forgive and forget and move on because they already have.

Amazingly Lame

2007-07-03T09:33:00.001-04:00

(for those of you looking for Bean, scroll down, I have explained)

I'm absolutely embarrassed that it has taken me over 2 weeks to sit my butt down and write this post. I could list a bunch of amazing excuses but I respect the degree of all your intelligence and know you will see through it and recognize it for what it is: A load of crap, just stupid excuses.

But because human nature tends to then kick in, I will at least attempt to defend myself, not to be mistaken with amazing lame excuses.

This pregnancy has eaten my brain. I am unable to put together anything that sounds less than a kindergarten level thought. I've also had a amazing amount of things on my mind that I have refrained from discussing here and recently it has consumed my computer time and if you know me in real life, you are beginning to avoid me because you are just as sick and tired of hearing about it as I have been discussing it. But luckily for me things have a way of working themselves out, well, almost, and I will no longer be boring you real life people with the gruesome details, you are certainly welcomed.

So, how's that amazing lame excuse working for you? Did you like it?

Oh, and one thing, I seriously, seriously keep forgetting I'm pregnant. What's going to happen when this child is born? Will I just walk out the house with Camille in tow and completely forget that the Bean has been born?

Yes, we have named this one the Bean. And please let me say that the Bean is quite the little fetus and I immediately saw difference in my children at that ultrasound. Camille's first ultrasound was quite the bore. She did exactly what a 9 week fetus does, she sat and did absolutely nothing, nada. But Bean? Oh, Bean was in there waving at me and kicking Beans feet having a good ole' time. I'm really hoping that this means that Bean will go more with my agenda than his/her own. And just for the record, I think Bean will be a he only because the way Bean acted at the ultrasound, reminded me of D. Sorta laid back and friendly, unlike me, uptight and bitchy.

So, without further ado, I introduce you to Bean.

(well, apparently Blogger does not like the picture of Bean. But Flickr did and it's up. I'm not going to link to it because I'm to lazy so drag your little mouse over the left sidebar and click away. While you're at, adore the pics of my absolutely gorgeous daughter)

(also, it should be noted that I have not proof read this, sorry, but I barely have had the time to even write this)

Saved by the Meme

2007-06-20T07:55:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow is my first ultrasound, ha! I won't even go into detail about how extremely ~~paranoid~~ calm I am. So, instead of another boring post about how I talk about fears and worries, instead I present to you a Meme thanks to FFG, she has saved the day for you. Go over and thank her.

What were you doing 10 years ago.
Ten years ago, I had just gotten over a horrible case of Mono and was going to the local community college stacking up some easy credits. I was gearing up to move to PA to attend the college I would graduate from.

Five Snacks You Enjoy right now during the crazy pregnancy mode:
1. Pineapple
2. Cheese
3. Yogurt
4. Tangerines
5. Chewy Candy

Five Songs That You Know All The Lyrics To:
1. Cecelia

Sadly, and D can attest to this as he laughs at me all the time I'm humming a song, I don't know the words to ANYTHING. I didn't even know the words to Twinkle Twinkle at first. Now, I could continue with the extensive list of Camille songs I know, but that is boring. Technically though, Cecelia is a Camille song. I've been singing it to her since she was born but inserting her name instead. Yes yes, I'm a lyric loser.

Five Things You Would Do If You Were a Millionaire:
1. Pay off all bad debt (ie: credit cards, cars)
2. Invest Wisely
3. Pay off all my Mom's debts and have her living free
4. Pay off all my In-laws debts and have them living free
5. Relax and enjoy our life

Five Bad Habits:
1. Never having my cellphone charged
2. Collapsing on the couch at night and not cleaning more
3. Mailing birthday presents out late
4. Being sensitive/caring and therefore allowing everyone to walk all over me like their personal doormat
5. All the fun little bits of OCD in me that drives D crazy

Five Things You Like To Do:
1. Wake up in the morning before everyone else and enjoy the peace and quiet
2. Staying at home and raising my daughter and future child
3. Drive with the windows down on a nice day while listening to some good music
4. Cleaning ~ I don't like starting to clean, but I feel invigorating in the middle of it!
5. Drink a good cup of coffee with a friend

Five Things You Would Never Wear Again:
1. Booty shorts, I'm 30 not 20!!
2. Halter Tops
3. 3 inch chunky shoes
4. Jeans that rise past my belly button
5. Overalls

Five Favorite Toys:
1. My kitty cat
2. Camille
3. D
4. The cool hose attachment my Mama got me
5. Camille's outdoor toys...if she occupied that means I can garden!!

Five people to tag (I'm too lazy to link, but you guys know who you are!):
1. sunShine
2. Becci (who is trying to quit blogging)
3. Shokufeh
4. Hedda
5. Heels

Muffled Voice

2007-06-12T16:24:00.000-04:00

After I had Camille, I remember thinking how much I missed being pregnant. There was this strange sense of sadness that now I had to share her with the world. I had never been one of those people who wanted kids close in age. But geez how sad I would get each month we weren't pregnant, even though we weren't even on the verge of trying.

Now, I'm pregnant.

Now I'm exactly where I wanted to be and at times I have a thought that flashes through my mind "What the hell were you thinking?"

I'm sick, all day, each day. Every things smells horrible to me, it's so horrible it's overwhelming.

I feel lazy, extremely lazy. Like a horrible wife lazy. I don't dare grocery shop for the week because I have no clue what will make me sick on Wednesday. It could be what I was craving on Tuesday, it's hit or miss. My house also is not set to my standards and thank God that FFG went through the same thing. After reading her post yesterday, I spent the entire day reminding myself it's not just me. I know in 4 more weeks, once we're done with this first trimester, I hopefully will begin to meet my expectations once again.

Yes, I feel sick. I feel lazy.

But I don't feel trapped by my anxiety, although it does show it's ugly head from time to time.

By this point in Camille's pregnancy I found myself on the couch in my therapist office due to numerous panic attacks. It had only been 4 weeks from my miscarriage that I conceived her, so it was so fresh in my mind. I was certain I was going to loose her pregnancy as well.

I have the fears, they are there. I can hear them every now and then but they're locked behind a wall that I refuse to open. It's a muffled voice, one that speaks of what could happen. But I try not to listen.

Next Thursday I have my first ultrasound. I'll be 9 1/2 weeks. My good friend went for her ultrasound at 9 1/2 weeks and they saw no heartbeat. That is one of the muffled voices reminding me of her experience. I try to ignore it and instead focus on my growing belly and the nausea that stays with me from morning to night.

I wonder what it is like, to go through a pregnancy, to be naive and carefree. To have never walked a mile in the shoes of someone who lost.

They will come?

2007-06-07T21:47:00.000-04:00

What's that they say? If you build it they will come? Is that really true? Has anyone challenged that and actually built it? And if so, did they really come?

We've built a benefit for our neighbor. A "fundraising gathering" so to speak. What you need to understand is that we've got everything, everything. Local Pizza shops donated a load of pizzas (duh! like what were they really going to donate, hamburgers?). Companies have donated numerous Gift Certificates for us to Raffle off. Heck, someone even donated a satellite radio.

As nice and dandy as all of this planning is, which is also the easy part of the whole thing, there is just one thing that none of us have any control over.

Will people actually show up? Because? If they don't? I'm going to also have a ton of really pissed off clowns.

So, how about all of you lovely people catch a flight up/over/down to Antarctica and be my wing men/women. What do you say? Come on, the ground has actually thawed out and I promise you won't have to worry about the pesky penguins?

That's all.

Obnoxious pregnancy ranting post to follow....eventually. Once I stop feeling like I just got off the world's fastest merry go round that is.

The least of these

2007-05-29T15:36:00.000-04:00

"Why do you want to help me? You don't even know me?"

The pain in her eyes as she asked me this and the dumbfounded look on my face as I searched for an answer that I didn't know how to put into words. What I did know was that she was all I could think about this weekend as I sat on comfortably in my home, spending time with my family, cooking dinner which I would enjoy eating on my dining room table all along knowing she had nothing.

"What you do for the least of these you do for me"

That's what I wanted to say but I knew she might not understand. So, as I stood there, looking at what was left of her home; a home she bought 37 years ago with her husband who is now deceased. As I stood there mapping out where everything used to be before the fire engulfed all her memories, the same type of house as mine. I stood frozen, tears swelling up for this stranger I hadn't even heard of until Friday:

Rose Grady's house burnt down on Friday at 9:45 am. Although the house is destroyed, there were no casualties in the fire.

That is what the headlines read and although they were right, there were no casualties, no one died, what they didn't report was how she lost every picture, every piece of jewelry her loving husband ever bought for her. How now, this 70 or so year old widow has nothing left. I'm sorry, but that is a causality.

I don't know why this has bothered me so much, why D and I just looked at each other all weekend wanting to do something, but what? How could we possibly help? This morning I was sick and tired of wondering what I could do and was ready to just do so I strapped Camille into her stroller and began my walk down the street. I didn't know what I was going to say, or who I was going to talk to but I prayed the whole way down asking God to just put the right person in the right spot if this was His will. As I turned the corner and entered her block I felt the butterflies begin. I didn't want them to think I was merely walking by to stare at someone elses misfortune. I wasn't here for entertainment, I was here to help. Before one more thought could enter my head a car pulled into a driveway and I knew this was my time. I know God had orchestrated the whole thing, I met with the right person at the right time. We stood there coming up with a plan, how we could raise money, how I could help, finally. As I began to walk away, the neighbor pointed and waved. There was Rose and I finally got to meet this woman I couldn't stop thinking about all weekend.

"I have to check out of my hotel room tomorrow morning"

Apparently the Red Cross only helps for a few days. After that, you're on your own.

"Don't worry, I'll cover tonight's bill"

As the words slipped out I honestly had no clue how I would pay for it. God knows I don't have money but I knew I needed to do something. Put your money where your mouth is they say. And to think, it's a damn hotel bill that just a month ago spiralled my family out of control.

So why would I want to help someone I didn't know?

Because that could be me, or you, or my Mom. I don't know. God calls us to help our neighbor in times of need. He specifically calls us to help the widows.

That's the only explanation I could give.

Bandwagon

2007-05-24T15:53:00.000-04:00

Remember my last post?

The one about how everyone is pregnant around here but me?

I tend not to be a bandwagon type of person. I typically will run the opposite direction from any bandwagon coming my way.

I guess somewhere along that road, the one in which I was running as fast as possible, the bandwagon caught up with me.

I'm pregnant folks.

I'll let that sink in for a moment and don't worry if it takes time. I've known for a little over a week and I'm still not convinced.

Come Winter

2007-05-14T14:35:00.000-04:00

Man, what the heck were you guys doing this winter? I mean, yes, it was also a crappy Spring at first and the weather was a bit chilly, but wow, everywhere I look everyone is pregnant.

But me.

This isn't one of those super clever announcement posts, no no no, this is one of those:

"Waaaaaah, I want to be pregnant post".

But the humor in that statement is that I know deep down inside that I really don't want to be pregnant now but yet I still find myself insanely jealous and SO shouldn't be because all the people I know who are pregnant, totally deserve to be. D keeps kindly reminding me that if I was pregnant right now, I would be due smack in the middle of winter.

Winter.

Do you guys remember how I get during the smack middle of winter? Apparently my memory is quite short because in my mind I think "Oh, it's not that bad" which D promptly responds "Oh yes, you are that bad". Bah Humbug on him.

But the thought of having a newborn and a 2 year old while being stuck inside because the weather is so cold it doesn't even register on the thermometer, it's terrifying people. I don't call it the frozen tundra for nothing.

I guess deep down inside I worry that I won't be as blessed as we were with Camille. Her pregnancy, and the pregnancy before that which I miscarried, came so easily but I'm older now. Not old in any way, but older and I worry. It's ridiculous, I know. There is absolutely no medical reason for me to be concerned, but I am.

I guess my point is that regardless of when a baby would be due, I just want to put my fears to rest and find if luck strikes twice, even if luck does come in winter.

Mother's Day, Take 2

2007-05-13T10:44:00.000-04:00

This Mother's Day, the best thing that I've given my daughter is a father that not only loves her but actually likes her. She's already got a hell of a lot more than I ever had.

Happy Mother's Day

Resident Doormat

2007-04-30T21:37:00.000-04:00

I haven't posted for the last week because I have been thinking way to much. Has that ever happened to you? Way to many thoughts and not enough words?

Two or so years ago I went to therapy, hell, we should ALL go to therapy, I'm in no way embarrassed to admit that I was brave enough to face my past. It was in therapy that I realized that I had very unhealthy relationships with some of my family members, hell, with some of you reading this site (which you read at your own risk mind you). I have since learned how to set healthy boundaries and how to lower my expectations so I would not find myself overwhelmed with disappointment when people would not reciprocate the relationship the way I wanted them to. I've grown a great deal in that area and no longer feel like the families resident doormat and I think they have responded quite well to this, which really was their only choice.

Although I had the strength to set boundaries for my family, I never really found that same strength to do it to people outside of my family.

Since the post before last, the one where I embarrassingly opened up the sealed door to my past, it sorta conjured up emotions that I never knew I still had and it made me realize that some people that I refer to as my friends might not be exactly healthy for me. I guess since I grew up feeling like no one ever liked me I tend to hold onto friendships for dear life, even if they are tearing me down. I realized that I really need to let go of some friendships since that post, I've realized that these people look down on me for various reasons and I deserve more than that from those I choose to call my friends. Where I was forced to lower my expectations in regards to my family members, I've had to learn to set higher expectations for my friends that I choose to keep my life.

This past week I have found myself looking at different aspects of various relationships and picking them apart trying to figure out what is healthy and what I can do without at the moment.

However, I have not wanted to post because I feared that some of my friends who do read this site would think that I was referring to them. Let me make this crystal clear:

I'm not talking about you, please trust me. You are healthy in my life and I am thankful for each of the roles you play in my life.

But for those of you who will never read this post because you don't have access to this site, I quote, with pride, this little ditty I read in the back of a book:

"Welcome to my life, please don't bother to wipe your feet"

God bless 'em

2007-04-20T07:59:00.000-04:00

Out of the mouth of 21 year old:

"You are so totally skinny. I can't even believe you had a baby a year ago."

And that my friends, amongst a toddler teething molars, family members who force me to drink, and a cat who spits his pill out each and every time I stick it back in, makes a tired Mama's night.

God Bless you 21 year old Panera cashier, God Bless you all.

Invisible

2007-04-16T15:56:00.000-04:00

Today, two times, someone picked on Camille. The blood that rushed through my veins was hot and boiling. That animal instinct kicked in and all I wanted to do, in all honesty, was smack the other kid for his cruelty to my child. Obviously I didn't, it wasn't his fault that he was a brat, it was his mother that deserved the smack as she watched on with a fake smile as her son continued to run into my daughter with the car that he pushed her off of in the first place. She desperately tried to get it back. I ran over, snatched her, and made certain that my opinion of his behavior was heard in ear shot of his mother.

I realize that these things happen. Kids are mean. Sometimes kids just have to learn how to not be mean by acting mean once in a while. Sometimes kids act mean because they have parents that are so afraid to discipline that they aren't being taught any other way.

I know I can't protect Camille forever but you better know that I will protect her as long as I can.

I was that kid that no one liked. Not for anything I did, but for what my parents did. At the time, in the early 1980's divorce was very taboo in the church. I went to a private school before and then after this change of status in my family. My sister's and I were well accepted before but the aftershock of the events I had no control of sent a wave of discrimination that no child should have felt. When I say no one liked me, trust me, I'm not being dramatic.

I was the child that was never invited to birthday parties.

I was the child that no one chose to be on their teams during P.E. Because no one wanted me on their team, the teacher would just have me sit out for that class.

I was the child that no one played with at the playground.

I was the child that became invisible.

It was bad enough that the kids didn't like me but to make matters worse, the teachers didn't like me either and my parents were so consumed by their own drama that they created, that no one really noticed that downward spiral that finally hit rock bottom by my sixth grade year. I had actually become as invisible as one child could. I can remember sitting in class, and staring at test but never taking them. I can remember the teacher telling me that Jared**, the boy with severe disabilities was smarter than me.

I simply gave up.

I failed sixth grade. I actually received a 0 for the entire year because I refused to do anything. All the adults were so tangled within themselves that no one realized how far I had fallen. Looking back, if someone had just caught on, I think one would have diagnosed me with severe depression. It was awful and an ugly part of my life that is now very hush hush. No one talks about that time and when they do, my Mom cries because she didn't know it was that bad.

I tell you this so you can fully understand this fire deep down inside me to protect my offspring. I do not want any of my children to walk in those shoes. I am fully committed to providing for my child what I didn't have: A healthy loving relationship with their father. A home that is safe and peaceful and free from yelling and screaming. Security, enough that they know, inside these walls, I will never let in things that will disrupt their lives.

So today, as these two children, being children, picked on my daughter, that protective instinct became so overwhelming but I knew that this is a part of growing up and she knew that all she had to do was look over her little shoulder and see her Mama running to protect her.

***that comment that was made by this teacher was obviously closed minded and demeaning to all children born with special needs.

Messed Up

2007-04-11T21:19:00.000-04:00

I messed up.

I think I miss calculated.

I won't know until next Thursday but right now it's just not looking good.

So, I can't write at this moment because this really is kinda on my mind and as attempted to write a post about my camera I just erased it because I figured I could write it when I find out that I didn't mess up and can breathe a breath of relief.

If I do get to breathe a breath of relief it is only because I hate being wrong, that's all, really.

Here's picture of Camille for you to adore in the meantime taken with my new camera. Darnit if she's not the CUTEST baby EVER!

Deep Deep Love

2007-03-29T14:34:00.000-04:00

People, it's not you, it's me, really.

And due to my deep admiration for each of you is the exact reason why I decided to take this sabbatical. Do you know how unfair it is for you to come and expect a post and all you find is last week's post all stale and rotting. This poor site just sits like a cast away toy covered in dust looking pathetically at all the other sites who's owners actually make time for them.

So very sad.

As were your emails, damn, you guys love me, you really love me but your emails just made me feel horrible and then I thought about how I would feel if you or you or you would have said bye bye until Fall and I would have at least asked if you could just check in once and a while for goodness sakes.

Fine.

FINE.

I won't shut down shop completely, okay? I'll check in once and a while.

I'm busy though.

The sun started shining in Antarctica and I find myself letting the wee one out of her crib early after naps and going for nice long walks.

And now apparently I got roped into volunteering for two, count them, TWO different things.

But, tomorrow, as a added bonus, I will give you the site you are to indulge yourself in until my next post. So see, already, 2 post in 1 week on a site that was supposed to be on sabbatical. That my friends is love, deep deep love.

Outtie

2007-03-22T14:59:00.000-04:00

You know what's worse than playing all by yourself?

Playing all by yourself and looking like an idiot while doing it.

I feel like I'm in a game of Marco Polo but I'm yelling "Marco" and no one is playing along yelling "Polo" back at me.

I guess that's when you know it's time to take a sabbatical of sorts.

In the meantime, you can still keep up with our lives via Camille's person website. But there's a catch, if you want the address to the site you'll have to email me for it. I keep it under tight wraps and only want approved readers viewing it. Of course there won't be much to view until I can find my damn digital camera. It's not lost, it's just in a place that is unknown to me.

I'm not going to say this goodbye forever, it's just a see ya' in the Fall hopefully pregnant, that's the plan anyway and we all know what kind of support I need during that.

As I see fit

2007-03-20T14:40:00.000-04:00

I don't want any of you to get the wrong idea based on my post from last week....there really is no drama between me and the old employer. Just a lot of hurt feelings on my part, which is normal for a sensitive person like myself. It should also be noted that there is no drama in my life whatsoever. You are treading on drama free territory at the moment and I plan for it stay that way for a while.

Last weeks post was just all about me needing to vent, to get that small weight off my shoulders. There is something to be said about working through emotions via writing. I've been so afraid to admit publicly my frustration with the old employer because I am well aware that people with ties to them read this site. I won't say I don't care anymore, because deep down inside I'll always care. I think saying I'm no longer concerned is a better way to describe my feeling on things. I am not concerned if people find out that I'm upset with them. I am not concerned who reads this site anymore. It just doesn't bother me. As I've noted before, and here I go beating that dead point again, my abrupt end to checking statcounter has improved my blogging by leaps and bounds, not maybe in your eyes though. I know my postings are sporadic. Some weeks I post several times, some weeks I post once. But there is no longer a stress to post just to post. I post when I am feeling like there is something worth while to share. I post when I need to unload things that are weighing me down.

Today I feel happy. I feel on top of the world but am well aware that these winter blues that have been nagging at me can creep back up at any time. I feel at peace with relationships both good and bad and have a sense of freedom in the ones which are, not so good, I actually don't like referring to them as bad. I'd prefer to think as them on pause for a undecided amount of time.

I feel inspired today to write. I'm might not feel that way tomorrow. Tomorrow I might feel bitey and not post at all until next week. But whatever that mood will be, you can rest assured that I will turn here to share it not based on some blog popularity contest or fear of judgement from readers. I'll be who I need to be and post as I see fit.

The Airing

2007-03-13T22:53:00.000-04:00

Due to my lack of posting in the past week, or over the past week for those of you keeping score, I think now would be a good time for the airing of grievances. I mean sure, why not. I'm certain there have had to have been somethings in the past 10 days since I've been on hiatus that you're just itching to bitch about, because I sure as heck know that I do.

How about I go first, and then you all can just follow my lead, okay?

I am frustrated and slightly feeling a hint of betrayal towards my ex-coworkers.

Ahhh...I finally said it and admitted it. In my mind, I've extended the olive branch. I've emailed, and they've even been the nice kind of emails inviting them to lunch and all sorts of stuff and all I get back in return is snooty snooty responses. I knew it was going to be a downhill battle when I had only been gone for a few months and the job they had promised me they gave to someone else and then proceeded to twist the truth about the exact position they may or may have not given to that someone else. I had a huge debate with myself about how to handle it but I just let it go because in the long run I was not sure if I could have even left Camille for more than an hour without a breakdown. So, in my mind, it was all divine intervention.

But then it got worse. I used to see a few of them for coffee and what not's. They used to email and say how much they wanted to be in my life. We used to meet places. Oh, it was grand. But then, it stopped. And strangely it stop when D lost his job and I in holy shit mode decided to look for work because we all knew that the severance pay would end and there was no guarantee he would have work by then. They all turned on me. I asked for help (ie: side work), and the jerks turned on me.

How's that for being grown up.

Today it is crawling under my skin and it's most likely pestering me because I once again was asked which place of employment type* I would recommend to a woman in the playgroup today. The one I worked for or the competition and I, with a smile of dignity and grace, constantly, constantly defend them and play devil's advocate when deep down inside I want sweet sweet revenge. I don't do what my inner monologue beckons me to do. Instead I give a neutral, educated opinion and help them weigh the facts based on the type of service they need and can afford. I have knives sticking out of my back but yet I am still buttering the bread that feeds them.

What's that saying? And you learn to accept defeat with the grace of a woman not the grief of a child. To me, they have acted like nothing but spoiled little children. I will only respond with the dignity that they constantly lack.

Okay, I've worked through that, who's next?

*See that, still, although airing my grievance, don't disclose the exact place I worked. How's that for dignity!

P.S. I'm so so sorry I left so abruptly. Please go ahead and blame Mother Nature and her insistence on sending snow storms around the same time I'm to drive to PA through the damn Pocono's. I left early and returned late and shopped so much I was to exhausted to land my little fingers on the keyboard to tell anyone. Now go list your grievances before I leave again!

10 year Plan

2007-03-03T21:19:00.000-05:00

I have felt lucky that during the first year of Camille's life I feel as if I had this motherhood thing down pretty good. Sure I hit a few bumps along the road, but it was nothing that a quick call to a supportive sister now and then couldn't help clear up.

But since Camille turned one, I have myself questioning everything because Camille refused to do anything a one year old was supposed to do. Now here I was searching and asking for answers to problems that no one around me had ever run into with their own children. The only consolation that helped was all the shoot from the hip approaches that the expert say to try, I had tried, although they all failed, at least I knew to try them.

I have been worried.

I knew she was "alright", there was nothing developmentally wrong with her. I just didn't know how to make her do the things she was supposed to do and just when I thought we were on the right track with one thing, she would refuse another.

She didn't want to walk. She didn't want to drink out of anything but her bottle. Then she didn't want to drink anything from her bottle. She only wanted to drink from one particular cup but would only drink water and refused to drink milk.

Two weeks ago she decided, on her own, apart from any encouragement from D or myself, that walking was fun. She just got up one night and started walking from the couch to the kitchen. Each day she just went further and further.

Friday she asked for her baba (aka: cup). I put milk in it, deciding it was worth a try. She drank the cup. And not only did she drink the milk out of her particular cup, she decided to drink milk out of every cup she turned away just 6 days earlier.

She has taught me a valuable lesson in parenting her. She will catch on in her own time, in her own way and that the rule of thumb I had during her infant days will have to apply in these toddler days: Stop reading, stop analyzing and just let her be who she is and love and cherish her through it. I've realized that if I'm going to worry like this now, I can only imagine how I will feel 10 years down the road. This parenting things will not get easier, each stage comes with it's challenges. Just when you think you're on top of things, another curve ball will be thrown your way and the best you can do and be relaxed enough that when you have to go chase after it, you've saved up all your energy!

I know, I know...you mothers of 2 or 3 or 4 are shaking your heads at me laughing that I'm just now catching on. But you first time Mom's? Learn your lesson from me.

The Assignment

2007-02-26T22:12:00.000-05:00

I can't write right now, sorry. I'm too busy posting over at Craigslist and I just can't stop. How to beat the winter blues? Simple, go through your Salvation Army box and post it and make money while you sit back and sip your glass of wine. It's just that easy.

You better watch out, I might go crazy and list the laptop. You know how much I could get for this?

In the meantime, why don't you all be a dear and help my sweet, lovely friend out who's working her ass off trying to get her darn degree. She has sent me an S.O.S. and I know that you, my most valuable readers would be very happy to help.

Apparently she is needing to give a speech, we all know how fun those are to do and even more thrilling is trying to find some topic to talk about to a group of people who are secretly listening to their iPods instead of you. She has decided to speak about workplace monitoring and blogs. Specifically she wants to know how you guys feel about your employers monitoring your amazing sites that I read each and every day. Do you think it should be allowed or not? Are they invading your privacy or do they have a right to know what you are doing since they are paying you? And how about this one: how do you feel about places firing their employees for their blogs? Now, if you don't really have a opinion or just don't know what to say, you're not free from this task. Instead you are asked to leave a linky love for info on this topic.

Okay? I expect to see a comment section chalk full of intriguing opinions that my lovely friend can use for this extremely important speech or I'm cutting you off. From what? I just don't know yet, but don't make me come up with something.

Oh, and while your at? See that nice little blue icon to my left? It's there for a reason. Each year the same lovely friend walks to raise money for the March of Dimes. She was personally affected when she lost her precious son Garrett who was born 11 weeks to soon and graced us with his life for 11 full days. He might not be here with us, but he left an impression on my heart and many others.

Confusion in the middle

2007-02-22T15:03:00.000-05:00

I've got so many topics and things to say running through my mind right now that I wouldn't know where to stop. Since I've stopped watching those damn stats my blogging has changed for me in a good, wonderful way. I feel like I'm finally back to where I started and trust me, I don't want to turn back. But one downside to not watching the stats is that I sorta forget that this blog thing here actually exists and that lo behold some of you actually are still reading and I'm not writing! Now I have a back log of thoughts that jump around in my head and if I wrote like I think it wouldn't amount to that much of a coherent post. I've considered doing a number list but that is so played out and much to organized even for me Ms. OCD of organization. These thoughts aren't organized in my mind, they just go from A to Z and jump with a handful of confusion in the middle.

I do know this though: This year I did not go to Florida and holy hell can I feel that seasonal depression taking it's nasty claw and digging under my skin. I need SUN. I need Vitamin D. I need $400 of extra money laying around so I can buy a plane ticket.

When I get depressed I get tired and as much as I would love to just attribute my exhaustion on depression, D and the parental question it could be something else which I normally would disagree with but after going to the doctor last week (yes yes, I gave up and went...that's another tangent) it was discovered that, yes, indeed I have lost weight. I knew I had lost some weight because absolutely no jeans are fitting but what I didn't know was how low my weight has dipped. I stood shocked as the nurse moved the metal thingy on the scale into the 140's, I haven't seen a 1 and 4 together in my weight since high school. That means I'm at least 15 pounds lighter than I was pre-Camille. I wish I could say that I'm worried or upset but I'm the complete opposite, I'm thrilled and don't want to see the 150's creep back up but I know that it needs to. I'm not that obsessed. But I do wonder if that is the reason for the exhaustion.

I don't have much in my life to depress me right now. I just told D a few weeks ago how happy I was with my life, and I am happy. Maybe I just don't feel uppity though, but I realize how incredibly blessed I am. But when I do get in this type of funk I start to become hypersensitive and the things that I thought I put to rest just creep their ugly little heads back up. Like the two friendships that ended in my life recently. That has started to creep back up and no matter how much I try to shove it back into it's place it refuses to stay there.

I haven't talked about this here because as I was watching my stats like a hawk I was so nervous people who are involved in this huge mess might be reading and...GASP....find out that I was upset. And CRAP if they found out that I was upset they might get mad and me and find out that I'm really upset. But now I don't look at the stats so I don't care who's reading and I don't know who's reading so now I can say it.

Two friendships ended because of my site. Two people now refuse to be a apart of my life because of things that I expressed. And while they might be perfectly okay with this, I am not okay and I'm hurt still and I wish that I could stop caring. I pray for them everyday and worry about them still. I wish I wasn't like this. I want to be a damn brusher not a wearer but I wear with no pride.

Last night I went to a crafty thing way up North. The drive was relaxing and well needed but the event was held right around the corner from said friend who does not wish to speak to me. It hurt and it made very sad but there is nothing I can do about these situations except write about them here and let them go. So that is what I'm going to try for now.

See, we go from A to Z with a lot of confusion in the middle.

Normally

2007-02-19T21:21:00.000-05:00

When I discovered that Becky tagged me for the 6 weird things meme I was taken back a bit. I mean, 6 weird things? There's nothing really that weird about me really. I personally think I'm quite bland and boring. I thought about it all weekend since I didn't have time to post at all with my Mom visiting and I've come up with a great compromise.

Instead of calling it 6 weird things about me, how about 6 things that I find extremely normal about me and think everyone else should adhere to:

1. I don't eat breakfast. I don't like the taste of breakfast. I do however live on coffee every morning. When I was pregnant I did eat breakfast though and the moment my milk dried up I sang praising at the thought at being able to stop.

2. I only stop the microwave on intervals of 5. Meaning, rather than stop the microwave at 1:18 I'll wait until 1:15. It just makes perfect sense to me.

3. I rotate my underwear drawer. When I put my laundry away I put the newly clean ones on the bottom of the pile so everything has an equal opportunity to be worn. It should also be noted that the entire drawer is folded.

4. I do the same thing with my dishes and silverware. And D's underwear drawer. Hell, I do it with a lot of things, okay?

5. I shower in the same exact order everyday. Shampoo, conditioner, bath gel, shave. Nothing is ever done out of order and if it is, the universe is thrown off for the entire day.

6. I can not go to sleep in an unmade bed even if it means I make it up 10 minutes before bedtime.

See? See how normal I am?

Okay, onto the tagging portion of the meme:

In no particular order I choose Heels, my siblings, Shokufeh, and last but not least and don't think I wasn't going to make you do it....FFG!

Sick-o

2007-02-15T09:45:00.000-05:00

I'm not saying my birthday was awful, but when you've been running temperature for 7 full days, you begin to get a bit frustrated. Yesterday was no different, my body just wouldn't do it's thing even on my birthday.

There's no cute pictures of Camille in her Valentine's Day get-up.

There's not cute pictures of Camille in the mounds and mounds of snow we got.

If we would have taken any pictures it would have been of me curled up in a ball on the couch.

I think it might be time to call the doctor but I'm pretty sure all they are going to say is that I need to rest which honestly, we all know is a joke. I live in Antarctica, which means there's no family around, no one to come save me for 2 days and run this show in my absence.

Technically a fever is killing the bad germs so eventually I'll be the healthiest person around, right, right?

Hope your day was better than mine.

Blissful

2007-02-12T08:56:00.000-05:00

Oh my, it's really been a loooooong 6 days here. Camille stopped vomiting on Tuesday but ran a temp for the next 2 days and was quite pitiful. By Friday I had had enough with being locked inside so we ventured out to Target where my worn out body decided to spike a temp and right there in the middle of the store the body aches set it. I bought some over the counter stuff, took it in the car and decided to drive around until I felt it kick it. I figured at least if I was driving I could sit and "relax" rather than being at home and chasing a whiney still sick one year old. I am finally better, sort of. At least better enough to attempt escaping again. Soon we'll venture out for a playdate where my daughter, for at least a blissful moment, will be entertained by someone other than me.

Happy Monday.

Hopefully I'll have something more intelligent to say later on in the week.

Scratch and Sniff

2007-02-06T11:55:00.000-05:00

You smell that?

(sniff, sniff)

No? Come closer....little closer...okay, that's close enough.

Can't figure out the odd odor that is making you want to run for the smelling salts?

I'll clue you in:

It's a mix of Bath and Body Cotton Blossom and baby puke.

Oh yes, we got hit with the stomach bug, the first time in my 13 month span of motherhood and I must admit that I'm not so thrilled with this. We were at a Birthday Party on Saturday and apparently one of the monsters was still recovering. At least I'm not alone. I take great pleasure in knowing our *friend picked up the same virus at the party and oddly enough we discovered our puke covered wee ones around the same time yesterday: After afternoon naps. And even better we both were on the phone with one of our parental figures at the time.

It's a strange thing to walk into your child's room, half paying attention, because as mentioned above, you're on the phone and slowly it registers that you child is covered in something, you're not quite sure what it is but you are now noticing the aroma filling your nasal cavities.

And so went the rest of my evening finally ending at 3 a.m. which was the last time I was puked on. Since Camille woke up this morning she has kept everything in but is conked out in her crib since she didn't sleep a wink last night, nor did I but I'm afraid to nap because law states the moment I fall asleep she'll wake up.

Ain't Motherhood grand?

*I do still have friends and it should be dully noted that in order to keep these new friends they won't be reading this site...ever. Lesson learned, lesson learned.

Pesky Squirrels

2007-02-02T07:43:00.000-05:00

It's time to move on.

It has taken me over 2 weeks to do so, but I'm finally there, I'm moving on.

I'm not going to stop this site but I have decided to turn off statcounter. The only way I can continue here is if I don't know who is reading because when I know who is reading, I censor myself.

I know each and every person who reads this site. I know who you are. I know where you are reading from, the exact location. I'm not going to pretend any longer like you're not here peeping into my life. I don't quite understand why you're still here or even how you got this website address again. No, I take that back, I know how you got this website again. You went into Google and searched and searched and searched. You searched through cache files. You searched on sites of my friends just to find this link. You're definitely persistent, I'll give you that. I don't quite understand why some of you insist on peeping into my life considering you barely know me. I'm chalking it up to flattery. So go on and read. Read to your hearts content, I just don't give a damn anymore. But I refuse to censor what I say any longer. Or even acknowledge that you're here. You're like the pesky squirrels on my deck that continue to eat out of the bird feeder no matter how much I yell and scream and bang on the window.

The rest of you: You're not pesky squirrels so I won't shoo you away instead I thank you for giving me a much deserved break.

Just so it's clear: Lurkers, I love you, don't leave, you are not pesky. Those who hold some type of grudge against me, you are the pesky's. Sorry Amy for the confusion!

Stalling

2007-01-27T21:54:00.000-05:00

I need more time.

I really thought I'd be ready to pick things up where I left off by Friday but I'm just not ready but I'm getting there, I promise....I'm so close.

I'm so close to just not caring, not allowing this to get to me, so close to removing the knives from my back and continuing on.

Until then, let's talk. I expect opinions here people, I want your thoughts and no lurking allowed.

So, how many of you read Suburban Bliss? You know I don't link to the popular kids, but I do love Melissa, she's a great writer and is so real to the challenges of stay at home motherhood.

She was also on the Today Show and you need to go watch it and then chime in.

I'll go first:

I think Meredith made chop liver out Melissa. I personally love Cocktail hour before 5 p.m. There is nothing like a nice glass of wine especially when your spouse will be late. I wouldn't drink if I was watching your kids though. I can watch my child and drink because I know my child and I know what her needs are.

Now go, discuss amongst yourself.

I almost have all the knives removed, I'll be back soon.

Brusher

2007-01-22T16:06:00.000-05:00

I just erased an entire post.

I'm in a rut with this blogging thing and trust me, it isn't your fault and I'm not going to quit writing.

Camille is screaming, my sinuses are hurting and I'm shedding some old skin right now.

While talking with my parental figure last week, I commented on how sensitive I am, they quickly agreed. I also have found that this strong sensitivity usually renders me the hurt one, 9 out of 10 times. I tend to be a wear her heart on her sleeve kind of gal and I want to be more like the people who are brushers, they can brush hurts off and move on immediately, I want to be that person. Right now I'm finding myself hurting by people who have brushed me off. I'm hurt, they're not and that just makes the scales uneven.

Each day I come to this site and I see a group of people are reading. I can't say I'm confused or dumbfounded, I assume it's just human nature to want to peer into the life of someone you don't like but I just need a break right now from it. I don't want an email or a phone call or to be ridiculed.

I just need a break.

It would be unfair for me to discontinue this site because there is a larger group of people reading who are involved in my life in someway or another who actually like me. But right now it's hard for me to want to put my life out there.

I'm not going to check the stats on this post, I don't want to know.

I'll be back at the end of the week, I promise but for now I'm stepping away from the computer to give myself some time to heal and to change. Hopefully when I come back I can begin the journey to being a brusher and not a wearer.

Resigning

2007-01-16T22:58:00.000-05:00

We've got:

Bronchitis

Ear Infection

Constipation

.....and that's just Camille.

Don't even get me started on the cat. Yes, even the cat has ailments.

Oh, did I mention the ice? The ice that almost snapped my power line in half yesterday? Technically it was the over grown, humongous tree branches that continually fell on my driveway that just barely missed the power line but came oh so close. And in an attempt to save said power line D purchased pruning sheers and in the freezing rain stood outside for over an hour meticulously trimming the branches that rested peacefully on the power lines, something the electrical company does not recommend due to a little thing called electrocution, by the way. But D's fine.

Well, he's fine in a sense that's he didn't get electrocuted. He did however catch the flu so, yes, he is sick also.

Me? I am not sick (yet) however I am frantically searching through all of our important documents for my resignation letter but can't seem to get my hands on it. One would think that all Mom's would have that sucker handy for situations like these. Did anyone get one of those at the hospital as you left with your beloved child? Are we allowed to resign and just quit being the Mom's and the caretakers for just a week until everyone (yes, including the cat) is better?

Would you care to know how I plan to start my day tomorrow?

Actually, you really don't want to know nor does Camille but I'll give you a hint:

Ready?

We'll be needing to unclog the drains so to speak. Oh, she's going to be so not happy with me. I'm sorta hoping if I just ignore it for another day the damn prunes will start to do their job so I don't have to do it for them.

Thank goodness she's cute because if she wasn't, tonight when D sent me away to have time by myself I just might not have returned.

P.S. If you have emailed me in the last week, and I haven't responded? Please don't stick needles in your voodoo doll. I'm catching up on them as we speak!

P.S.S. Let's also let that cover phone calls that I haven't returned. I'm getting there, slowly but surely.

Whinefest

2007-01-11T22:03:00.000-05:00

Unproductive.

Very, very unproductive.

After weeks of pushing ourselves between buying a house to repairing a house, moving into a house to having numerous guest in and out the house, I can honestly say that we are wiped out.

Oh there is a ton to be done still.

We need to finish painting the bathroom; make the spare bedroom look more like a bedroom than a construction area; debox the basement.

But what do we do instead after Camille is sound to sleep? Sit on the couch and think about all the things we should be doing all the while I mentally beat myself up for not moving off my big fat butt. D, he's not so beating himself up, he's not OCD likes yours truly. He knows how to relax. Not me though. I was raised by parentals who believe laziness is the root of all evil. I have accomplished one thing though: I've sold, sold, sold on eBay but sadly I see it becoming a addiction as I walked around the house today finding things to sell. Finding things to sell. I don't necessarily have things I want to sell instead I'm just picking random things up that I'm tired of looking at and contemplating putting them up on eBay. How much do you think I can get for a 16 lb. cat that sorta resembles a Puma?

And in my unproductive, random selling state, I decided to switch Camille from formula to whole milk. She had her 1 year appointment a week ago and the doctor talked like it would be nothing to do. Just switch her, go cold turkey they said, so I did. That hasn't worked out so well for me and now that I think of it could be one of the factors to my unproductive mentality at the moment. Let's just say, Camille likes her formula. She's a creature of habit and was not thrilled to learn we threw yet another curve ball into her perfectly planned out 12 month old world. As a good friend pointed out to me today, she's just not up for another change at the moment.

I think that friend is right on the dot with that one because today I threw in the towel and went back to 100% formula bottles and her attitude improved immediately and I didn't find myself once about to list her on eBay and that makes for a good day. I was worried there for a moment because Monday - Wednesday was whinefest around here and not the kind of whine you have with cheese my friends. Not the kind of whine that knocks Mama out on the couch for the evening but the kind of whine that makes a Mama want to be knocked out. During the blissful 3 days Camille refused to partake of any type of beverage as the both the bottle and her cup betrayed. For 3 days she would cry for either one, once it hit her lips she would bite it, taste what was in it and then reject it. This morning she was glad to know that her bottle contained absolutely no contraband. It made for a good day. Well, it made for a good day, but not a fun evening. Do you know what happens to 12 month olds who don't drink anything for 3 days? Well, I'll give you hint: You save a lot on diapers because they just aren't used that often.

So whip out the prune juice and bottle of Chardonnay (for me, not her) (the Chardonnay) (the prune juice is for her) it's gonna be a few days!

Smashing

2007-01-08T21:48:00.000-05:00

Only two words come to mind to describe the aforementioned party:

Mountain

Molehill

Oh yes, it's true, I am as dramatic as my critics claim me to be. But all drama aside, wouldn't even the stoic of all people begin to sweat a teensy bit under the collar when they are hosting their very first party ever full of 25 actual guests? And by actual guest I'm not counting myself or my amazing husband into the equation, the same amazing husband who was left to entertain 4 sad husbands forced to attend a birthday party for a, although adorable 1 year old, a 1 year old. Now, how many husbands would prefer to trade weekend football for a babbling diaper wearing 1 year old, despite her model cuteness?

Success was my friend and Camille seemed to have enjoyed herself thoroughly so much so that she finally did the smashing of the cake, something she refused to do on her actual first birthday, much to her dear Aunts dismay. The cake, previous cake, was painstakingly made by this dear Aunt, my amazingly talented oldest sister who adores her baby niece. She made each and every rose and wrote Camille's name in hot pink icing. She constructed the ever so popular smash cake which just wasn't that popular to my girl. So, you can imagine her delight to discover that Camille instead participated in smashing a cupcake. I just think she knew that the cake was much to precious to smash but Mama's cupcakes were disposable.

And now, do you finally understand, based on the numerous noises in the background, why I was a wee bit tense?

Ha, and you call me dramatic!

I rest my case.

Freak Out

2007-01-04T21:05:00.000-05:00

Houston, we have a problem.

Apparently, people like me, they really like me. Or maybe they really like Camille. Or quite possibly they have absolutely nothing better to do on a Saturday except come to a First Birthday Party.

Regardless, the point here is there will be a butt load, yes, a butt load of people waltzing through my house on Saturday for Camille's friend party. This was totally unexpected for a number of reasons.

First, I sent emails before Christmas telling everyone when the party was and to expect invitations which I wanted to make but didn't because I was WAY over my head. I sent eVite thingy's instead on Sunday. I assumed everyone would have already made plans.

Secondly, I assume because the party was on a Saturday that a handful of our close friends would not be able to make it because, well, it's a Saturday and around here Saturday's are family time. I thought maybe people would want to stay home.

Thirdly, I didn't think people actually liked me. Maybe this third one is really just a personal issue but it still was a contributing factor in my "It'll be just a few people" mentality.

I was expecting 4 adults and 5 kids.....I will now be expecting 10 adults and 11 kids.

A few of my good friends, who will be attending the party, are fully aware that I'm freaking out. They have assured me it will go fine and I'm sure it will. I'm sure I'll look back at this post and shake my head for being so "dramatic". But right now, I'm freaking out..

Her? She has no concerns, she's all about the party.

Momentous Year

2006-12-31T23:21:00.000-05:00

This time last year I was ringing in the new year with my newborn daughter and double pneumonia. I barely made it to midnight as I desperately finished pumping in a lousy attempt to get my milk to come in. I was exhausted, sick and just learning what it meant to be mom.

Now here we are, one year later, happy and healthy and in a complete different place both figuratively and literally. D and I have done in a year the top 3 stresses you can put on a marriage: Baby, Unemployment, Moving and I think I can say that we have gone through these with flying colors.

As I have sat here these past couple of days I gone over in my mind how to post exactly about such a momentous year. I wanted something eloquent and thought provoking but there are so many emotions and words that I never have found a place to start because there really isn't just one thing that I can put my finger on.

Motherhood has changed me. It has forced me to become a better person, a calmer person, a more patient person. Camille makes me want to wake up in the morning and she makes me view life and take life a little less seriously. I have treasured every moment of these past 365 days and have found more enjoyment in them than I had found in several years. One little child that can bring so much joy and bring two people so close together.

December 27th I woke up with a little tear in my eye. How much I miss that sweet little newborn that would lay peacefully in my arms and I look back and can't figure out where those days went. There is a part of me that feels like I didn't treasure every moment like I should have. Instead of worrying about schedules and milestones maybe I should have just relaxed and held her longer. I kick myself for not taking monthly videos to have something to remind me what she looked like and how she acted at 7 months compared to now because, honestly, I just can't remember.

I miss my little baby, but I love my exploring toddler as she discovers new things every day. I love her new laugh when I tickle her right under her neck. I love hearing her sweet little voice as she proclaims "Button" at the site of anything and everything round. I love watching as she gets excited over her favorite books.

I will always be her biggest fan and I'll never make her feel like she is invisible. There is nothing this child can do that will make me love her less. I will always be her soft place to land as she goes out and tries to spread her wings. I want her to know she can makes mistakes, she doesn't have to be perfect and no matter what, my arms will always be here to embrace her.

I can't wait to see what this new year brings for her

.

Blessings

2006-12-24T15:42:00.000-05:00

Seeing that Camille will be turning one in three days, I'll save all my writing for then, so be prepared. Well, of course now that I've set myself up for something I'll totally drop the ball and not write anything special for her first birthday.

.
.

Sorry, I had to pick myself up off the ground there. The mere thought of my itty bitty baby now not being so itty bitty anymore makes me feel a wee bit faint. I'm still looking around and trying to figure out where this year went exactly. Last Christmas Eve I sat waiting, already giving up the hope that I would be spending Christmas day with my family. Everyone knew I wouldn't go early but would go late. Everyone but me. Maybe I did know but just wasn't ready to convince myself of it. I was huge and but still comfortable and praying for Camille to come alive and healthy. The 40 plus weeks of pregnancy, although enjoyable, did not come with a lot of stressful mind games. Because I miscarried before her pregnancy, I was sure that this pregnancy just wouldn't produce a child.

Each and every milestone I had in my mind we blazed through: First trimester, 20 week ultrasound, the dreaded 29 weeks when my dear friend lost her son. Every milestone of which I knew of someone else loosing their baby but now the final one was approaching. I was terrified the other shoe would hit at the birth. I knew of someone who lost her daughter at 40 weeks, so I wasn't out of the woods just yet.

This morning, as we stood during the worship service at church, I couldn't help but feeling an overwhelming sense of joy followed by a rush of tears. Here a stood, exactly a year later holding this precious gift in my arms. Everything else bad that this year brought just seems a distant memory compared to the blessings around me. I hope and pray that each and every one of you can experience the joy that I have been blessed with. And if you're in a time of troubles right now, that you'll hold on and know that it won't last forever, trust me, it does get better.

Merry Christmas.

Good Measure

2006-12-21T23:18:00.001-05:00

I didn't realize how much moving can spin your delicately scheduled life into a frenzy especially when this move occurs between Thanksgiving and Christmas. When D and I moved from the one bedroom apartment to the two bedroom, I don't remember it being this chaotic and busy. Granted I was only pregnant with Camille at the time so she was nice and contained and we were only moving into 900 square feet and not 1700 square feet. These things make a difference you know.

I have spent this week playing catch up with the Christmas spirit and have been frantically throwing in some cheer for good measure. We put up a tree last weekend and this weekend we are going "Christmas Shopping", a term I use loosely. This year's gift giving will differ greatly from the years past. Typically we give generously to each and every family member and to each other but this year things are different. This year, instead of buying Bath and Body gifts, we bought faucets and dishwashers. Instead of diamonds and video games, we have molding and toilets. Ahhh, yes, the gifts of the first time homeowner. Even the Christmas cards reflect the spirit of home owner poverty by reprinting the profession picture because really, who has an extra $10 a sheet for wallets that I can do for free. And come time for the first mortgage payment, there will be a lot of hot dogs and crackers in our future.

But, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love my house. I love not living in a 2 bedroom apartment anymore with elephants stomping above us. I love that it is finally my turn to act like a grown up and not have people living on all sides of me. I wake up each morning and sit on my love seat next to the big window that looks out to the front yard. Sure, the window is as old as the house, but it's peaceful and it's mine. I look around at the open space, at the hardwood floors and the foyer and I get goosebumps. There really isn't anything else D could get me for Christmas this year, I have everything I want: A healthy marriage, an amazing daughter, a beautiful house, a strong knit family and friends who still love me.

Who could ask for more?

Pruning

2006-12-18T23:05:00.001-05:00

As Camille's first birthday quickly approaches, I mentally make a list of all the people I am going to invite for her party. There is a list, quite a lengthy list of Mama's and their babies who have been involved in our lives for this past year. Some of them have just been brought into my life within the past few months and some of have been there since I was pregnant with Camille.

But then there are some, well, many, who won't be there, who won't be invited, who don't even care but should have cared. They swore they're allegiance when I discovered my pregnancy and talked about how excited they were and how they were going to be here for us and now when the shit really hits the fan they scattered like mice. And maybe the shit didn't really hit and they just don't have any other excuse other than not giving a damn and just vanishing out of my life because they could. I emailed. I called. Hell, for some of you reading, you know that's a major deal for me. But to no avail I don't get a call back or a email reply.

Needless to say, I'm hurt that they don't want to be here. I feel selfish just saying this. I feel like I am surrounded by the most amazing group of people and here I am crying poor mouth about the ones who don't want to be around. People do that, I know, they let you down. I also know that sometimes God does some pruning in our lives and it's for our own good. I know that sometimes God says no and tell us to move on. But I didn't know how it could hurt and how it feels even worse when it involves your child.

I think I'm going to need another cookie.

Fruits of Labor

2006-12-13T22:35:00.000-05:00

We are finally moved in. After a two week marathon of priming, painting, packing and moving, I am taking a much deserved break. The house is set up. It's not perfect and doesn't meet my standards, but it's enough to let me lay back and just enjoy some of the fruits of labor.

Two weeks ago the house looked like this:

Now it looks like this:

Do you understand why I've been gone so long?

And as you can see, I'm still not done unpacking.

Neglectful

2006-12-06T09:20:00.000-05:00

I'm neglectful.

NaBloPoMo ended on Thursday along with any posting on this site. But Thursday was also the day we closed on the house which if you're playing along at home, you'll recall the house is a fixer up. When you're OCD and you buy a fixer up one tends to go a little above and beyond with the fixing up you see. I've been over at the house painting, along with my amazing patch work of a painting crew (aka: friends and family I've begged and pleaded to help) from dusk to dawn. I wake up, say good morning to Camille and head out to the house painting until D's Mom calls saying dinner is ready. Rush back to the apartment, eat, leave and stay until midnight. By the time I return back to the apartment I'm lucky that I have the energy to shower and climb into bed only to start back all over again.

But the last two days have been different. I've taken it a bit slower. The painting is more than halfway done and I'm more than halfway missing my daughter. The one thing I've learned from this whole experience is that I'm not cut out for working full time. I don't like seeing Camille for only 3 hours a day. Monday I stopped my insane routine and took her to library time. We came home and I left to work but when I returned for dinner I just couldn't get myself to leave. I had only been with her from 8-12 and it just wasn't enough. As I sit here typing this I know I need to get going. I only have 2 more rooms to paint, one of which just needs a second coat, but if I leave now I know I won't see her again for hours and I don't feel like I've spent enough time with her yet this morning, it's only 9:30 a.m.

But I will leave and get this house put together for her so she is no longer woken up by elephants trampling above her and soon this will just be a memory and we'll be back to normal, just like this site.

P.S. Next time I get a moment to sit down I'll post pictures and rant and rave about how filth, cast iron tubs and emergency plumbing, sounds exciting, huh?

Caught

2006-11-30T23:34:00.000-05:00

Well, we are officially homeowners of a fixer up.

I'm ecstatic but now easily overwhelmed. Ha! The price of owning, huh? I have 1100 square feet of walls to prime and painting to do by myself.

Can I quilt trip anyone to come help?

How about all of you who live near me come help tomorrow. I know you're reading so you're seeing my S.O.S. and I can see your IP address so you've been caught.

I would type more but apparently I've inhaled waaaaaay to many fumes from the primer and the little pink unicorns are calling me to bed.

Tomorrow

2006-11-29T22:30:00.000-05:00

Closing

is

tomorrow

1 p.m.

I'm exhausted.

The elephants woke Camille up so she didn't nap today which means I didn't clean today.

I am SO happy D's parents are here. I welcome the help with open arms.

That's it, that's all I got for you. Thank goodness I'm not that concerned about comments anymore!!

Intelligble

2006-11-28T13:32:00.000-05:00

I need to let off a little steam because I can't call anyone because I'm sitting her impatiently waiting for the damn phone to ring to let me know if closing will be at 9 am Thursday or God knows what time Friday or will it even be anytime this week. I've exhausted every phone number I could call who would possibly know the answer to my burning question and if we DO close on Thursday at 9 am I only have 24 hours to change our home owner insurance letter and DARNIT TO HECK I want to close on Thursday because do you want to really see what I'm facing?

I need as much time as possible to get in there and paint to so I can get the heck out of this sardine can because, Oh my good gosh the elephants in the apartment above us were totally having a parade last night and I just can't take it any longer. And let me also mention that if we close Thursday D's parents will come tomorrow evening which is GREAT because, hahaha, the baby is SICK...AGAIN! Oh, the cat is also sick because obviously he was feeling a little neglected.

Who knew it was going to be this freakin' stressful trying to close this far after Thanksgiving and this close to Christmas? Hell, who in their right mind would even try? Me, that's who.

Maybe later I'll post something more intelligible.

Or maybe this is as intelligible as I get these days.

Wrap it Up

2006-11-27T22:23:00.000-05:00

If you read FFG's blog, a lot of this is just going to be a repeat here which in my opinion is a good thing. You know, she could have talked about how horrid her Thanksgiving was and how the family in VA was grating on her nerves. Of course that family in VA would be me and my sisters and I tried very hard to be on our best behavior.

Apparently we did a good job because everyone had a great time. Steph talked about today how blogging, in her opinion, made our getting together not so awkward and I can't agree anymore. Despite not seeing each other for two years or so, and after only meeting one time, we all have still been able to form a strong friendship. Steve and Steph just fit in perfectly and Steph seems more of a sister than a "in-law". The girl can carry her own amongst my Mom, sisters and I, something that does not come easy.

Not only has blogging strengthen a friendship, it also can form new ones. Yes, we felt a little funny, all three of us, getting together to meet what technically were strangers but emotionally felt like a long time friend but we took a chance and did it with our husbands hovering over just in case. It was worth a chance and again, not awkward whatsoever. Shokufeh, I can honestly say, is just kinder and sweeter than her pictures give her credit for. And when she walked into my mom's house, it felt like we were getting together with an old friend, there were no moments of silence. Of course poor Shokufeh was exposed to my "shy" family who took every advantage of getting to know her also. My 89 year old grandmother even joined in, although couldn't quite understand how we all knew each other!

The power of blogging has not just affected the adults but the babies also. I show Camille pictures of Lexi and talk about her a lot, something Steph does also. When the girls saw each other for the first time, it was as if they recognized each other. They both looked at the other smiling and giggling as if they knew something we didn't know.

The trip was ridiculously busy though, not having time for anything or anyone, something I do always regret when visiting VA. There is just never enough time to see everyone and do everything. I had planned on trying to get out and connecting with some old friends and some new friends but we didn't leave my Mom's house except for our Black Friday shopping spree beginning at 5 am and then Saturday for our Thanksgiving visit with my Dad.

And because it was so ridiculously busy, I'm ridiculously exhausted and I've got to get over it because we are now closing a day earlier than expected. A full 24 hours before we had planned. I'm estatic but that won't do any good if I fall asleep while painting so I'm off for bed.

Exhaustion

2006-11-26T22:11:00.000-05:00

After driving through 3 different states, and one pit spot later, we are finally home.

How many different ways can I express how exhausted I am?

But we better rest up because we close on Friday.

4 more full days until we finally become homeowners and escape this sardine can that we've called home for the past few years.

Need rest.

Must go.

But before I do, one picture just to remind me that all of this was worth it.

Twenty Five

2006-11-25T23:47:00.000-05:00

That's how many days this challenge has been going and, as I say when I do these things last minute, I'm not going to ruin it now...I'm so close. Which means yet another lame post, but, yes yes, it's a post.

We are at stop 3 of our Thanksgiving Extravaganza visiting with my Dad. We will leave here tomorrow afternoon and begin our trek back up North taking a pit stop in PA.

I would love to write more but the family is swarming in and I'll be kicked off.....now.

Blogging Spirits

2006-11-24T22:12:00.000-05:00

Apparently, when you wake up at 4:30 a.m. to shop on Black Friday, and you haven't really slept in the last 48 hours to begin with? It results in a massive headache and a cold that lingers and refuses to go away. While I lay pitifully on the floor I realized that I still needed to post. Drats! I refuse to break my streak now, I'm almost there.

But what do you write when you're wiped out? Nothing, instead you thank the blogging spirits because I've been tagged by HossierGirl5. So, here we go with my 6 crazy things:

1. I don't drink dairy out of anyone else's frig other than my own. The same goes for yogurt and other edible dairy products. When I do eat yogurt though, it must only be Yoplait, no other brand will do.

2. When using the microwave and I need to stop it halfway through, I will only stop it on multiples of 5's and 10's.

3. I meticulously fold my toilet paper before each and every use.

4. I hang dry all of my clothes and all C and D clothes. I buy quality clothes and don't want them ruined. And no, I don't buy quality because of the "brand" but because I just like quality.

5. I'm afraid of the dark and refuse to put the house to bed at night. I make D go out and turn off all the lights and lock the doors.

6. When choosing names for my daughter and future children, I look at the top names for the past few years and if a name I like is on it, it can't be used.

Basically, I'm OCD, yes, I know. And I've taken cough syrup and I'm drowsy and can't even think of anyone to tag but will tomorrow.

Thankful Mayhem

2006-11-23T22:02:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving, Princess and Johnsy style brought to you by pictures:

Recognize the cuteness sitting next to Camille?

"Haven't I seen her on a website before?"

Our cousins joined us to add to the mayhem!

The Mayhem...10 adults
Six kids, plus 2 babies equals a house of noise. And to think I was still able to convince Shokufeh to swing by. You know, what's an extra 3 people when you already have 19!

(Pictures to follow tomorrow.)

Part II

2006-11-22T07:31:00.000-05:00

This morning we will begin our final leg into D.C. Last night was successful. I deserved that though after 2 unsuccessful trips when planned around sleep times there was no sleep involved. Instead there was a lot of whining and complaining, from both of us.

This part of the trip should be even better. I'll have both of nieces with me.

Okay, that's where blogger ate the rest of the post and I don't know where it went. Yes, I have to publish this a day later, but darnit, it still counts as a post from yesterday.

The trip yesterday, in one word: TRAFFIC

I had grand plans of getting here by Noon'ish and then setting out to meet people but Noon'ish turned into 3'ish and well, it all sorta combusted.

On the Road Again

2006-11-21T19:04:00.000-05:00

Here we go.

We're off for our Thanksgiving Extravaganza.

This trip, the first leg of it will either be success or a complete failure. Success will be if Camille sleeps as planned, hence why we are leaving at 7 p.m. Failing will be that she screams through the entire trip because she absolutely hates riding in the dark car. The little light on her mirror is working, so God willing that will do.

Oh, and we're bringing the cat too.

This will make for a great post tomorrow!

Lame

2006-11-20T22:20:00.000-05:00

First of all, I apologize in advanced for this post because it's really lame but I've come this far with the challenge and I'll be damned if I drop the ball now.

So for the lame post:

Today I went to library time with Camille. I am always looking forward to going to these types of things for two reasons. The first being I enjoy watching my daughter absorb new environments. She was enthralled and thoroughly enjoyed the time. The second is that I look forward to meeting and conversing with other Mom's.

However, you run into problems when the other Mom's refuse to speak with you. Come to think of it, although they couldn't keep their eyes off of my daughter as she laughed and danced during the story time, they refused to return her smiles with smiles. That really pissed me off. You might not like me, but you sure as hell can return my adorable daughters smile.

And that concludes my lame post, but hey, even lame posts count as posts people!